


War of the 3rd Millenium

by Kaelha



Category: StarCraft, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2428652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaelha/pseuds/Kaelha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the cruiser is pushed out of the warp due to unknown phenomenons Inquisitor Kayleck is far from pleased. She will be less pleased knowing that all psykers are maddened mumbling that His light is nil. For that would mean the throne is emptied. Or that the throne isn't occupied yet. In the grim darkness of the Koprulu sector, there is only war. Suffer not the Alien to live!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Second Turtle to the Left

**≡][≡**

He knew that noise. He knew the noise of the sudden entrance into the materium. The burst. The thrill. The alarm. They were falling. They were damned. He was in a cell in a vessel that was plummeting itself to the planet below. He didn't care. They had taken everything from him, his ship, his life, his warrant. He only laughed.

**≡][≡**

"What happened?" There were many humans in the bridge, only three were alive and only two were sane. Inquisitor Kayleck kept her vision down not looking into the Navigator's eye. The abhuman didn't seem to care, too occupied convulsing like the rabid madman he know was.

"Darkness. The astronomican. I'm blind. Blinded. The golden path... is no more!" The revelation was one hard to bear, even for the prophet who madly attempted to shriek his eyes with gory fingers. The Emperor's light didn't shine. And soon no light shone for the Navigator for he was knocked out by an inquisitorial punch.

"Throne!" Kayleck's frame wasn't that of a brawler. She for the most part contented herself with appearing to be an inoffensive dancer. More than many had undervalued her, taking too long to consider that the form of a duellist is in fact as lithe as that of a ballerina.

"Inquisitor" the voice of the storm trooper captain sounded calm even in the situation. "I've teams checking the ship, Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib and his Astartes are also aiding to the task. The Gellar fields appear to be still standing. We don't know what happened, we have lost potency on the warp drive. We are being drawn by the gravity of the planet below. It is slow but it will be faster soon enough... I suggest we find someone who can fly this ship or we are going to have a rough ride." There was a smile on the captain's lips, the idea of a complicated planet entry sounded funny for a veteran of the D-99 Elysian.

With a resigned sigh Inquisitor Halwinnit Kayleck of the Ordo Xenos took the piece of advice. Unfortunately most of the Ollanius' Revenge personal capable of actually flying the light cruiser were gathered at the bridge when the alarm started and somehow they had been terrible at avoiding the Navigator's gaze. Or something worse happened. Something she didn't want to ponder. The Inquisitor gave a quick cursory inspection of those gathered. Most were dead with their eyes open in a shocked expression. Others, more fortunate, had taken longer to die hitting themselves hard against the consoles and bleed profusely. Still there were some that missed the show.

"Captain Ferros, vox Sergeant Boon it seems his... companion isn't here. Maybe he knows where she is." The Inquisitor couldn't care less about the frolicking partners of her troopers, and the purple eyes of the Cadian sergeant were certainly popular among the Navy officers.

A nod, a smirk, a short vox conversation, and a minute later a dishevelled woman wearing a Kar Duniash's Navy uniform, clearly unfit Karskin boots, and a satisfied smile appeared at deck.

"Frak! What happened?"

"Captain Herdess take control of the vessel and land us at the ground. In one piece preferably. Now." Telling the woman that they didn't actually knew what happened wasn't the best course of action.

"I'm only a Commander and I can't do it alone." The nervousness on the woman's voice was obvious, still she was to be commended for he sat herself at the captain's throne and started tampering with the controls.

"In name of the Inquisition I would like to commend you on your promotion. Captain Ferros here can vox most of the personal on the quarters tell us who you need. The Emperor protects."

It was a hard hour and a harder landing. Many people run at the time, it was hot, both due to the nervousness of the crew and the heating of the atmosphere. Fortunately the The Ollanius' Revenge was a sturdy old vessel, a ship that had always made the Inquisitor proud. They were a black scar, a scar of four and a half kilometers of length, in a deserted area. The recently ascended Captain Herdess might not consider her skilled in the art of landing light cruisers in unknown planets without the aid of a docking bay, but she had certainly proven herself capable. Around the landing were tall canyons, rocky formations and some forests.

What worried the inquisitor were three revelations that she had had during the fall. The first, if the instruments of the ship functioned correctly, they were in Graia, a forge world deep in the eastern fringe. If this was indeed Graia it was much less industrialized that one would expect, no one had spotted any facility from the Adeptus Mechanicus as they did planet fall. Instead what they had seen was some unknown xenos architecture. That was the second thing that the inquisitorial conscience. The third issue at the back of her mind was the more pressing though, all the psykers on the vessel had gone mad or were dead. For the throne there was something wrong.

**≡][≡**

"Did you recognize that vessel tribe leader?" The thought was a complicated and rushed one. A thought that was repeating and replicating itself through the mind of those gathered. The tribe leader was old. Had traveled far. And had studied farther. But the truth was that he had no insight for his fellows. He didn't recognize the craft.

"It must be Terran." It was only an educated guess, it was clearly not theirs, and the bane of the creators lacked the skills and the interests to construct such a thing. It was a good guess though, or as good as any, almost correct. It didn't calm the others. That arose more questions that it answered. For if it was Terran why had they constructed such a monstrosity? Why had they landed with such... lack of grace? Even Terran pilots were better than that. Something was amiss.

"Dark Templar Talrisis, gather some zealots and go investigate"

**≡][≡**

"Trooper Van Saar coordinate with the Magos and the Enginseers I want a list of the damages in the vessel and repairs necessary in ten minutes. Sergeant Argol take the sniper team to the Ollanius' roof and provide cover. Trooper Buticularo you are in charge of the Vox. Corporal Thor, trooper Bartle, trooper O'Hen you are on drill duty, turn the boarding parties of the imperial Navy into soldiers worthy of his name! Quartermaster Ivy, trooper Guts, trooper Catallus coordinate with Sister Silvana and get me a campaign hospital. Trooper..."

The orders kept flowing, the Captain was clearly skilled in shouting them and the men were more than capable of following. Of course serving under Inquisitor Kayleck's command demanded that they were more than capable. All of them stood firm, wearing proudly the black and red fatigues of the storm troopers under the carapace armour. Most hailed a collection of tools, weapons and assorted gear distinct from their companions. Each of the soldiers hailed from a different regiment of the guard, all of them had survived several campaigns in most cases battling the enemy without, the aliens. Once they had thrived on those battlefields they were pushed into the Schola Progenium and drilled the basics again. Those that had made it were given equipment that would make a guardsman drool, a chance to die in His name, and the hard news that training never ended. Captain Ferros was proud of his troopers and with the aid of Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib pushed them as far as they could. Simply put the thirty men and women under his command were a much deadlier force than anyone familiar with the guard ranks would expect.

"Throne! Move!" Once the commands were finished every trooper moved to carry their particular set of commands, a group of them started scouting the area surrounding the fallen vessel while others started digging trenches and fortifying the terrain. As a group moved towards the interior of the Ollanius' Revenge the Astartes emerged. Six towering figures, eclipsing that of any man, garbed in the black and silver ceramite power armour of the Deathwatch and covered with cloaks of the finest cameleoline. The Alien Hunters Kill Team favoured stealth.

"Captain Ferros, you are in command until I return. I wish to examine the constructions we saw from orbit. Ensure that our prisoners are comfortable, and see if we can instill enough lucidity in an astropath to send a message." Although she was a mere human, she had donned all her battlegear, carrying a collection of archeotect, and xenos instruments that would make most techpriest drool. The Ordo Xenos took command of the expeditionary force. "Brother – Captain let's move."

**≡][≡**

When one is a capable mercenary it takes some special things to pike ones interest. Commander Sertes fancied himself such an individual. And he was now certainly surprised. For the contract that he was receiving was from a dead man. Commander Sertes was pretty confident, almost sure, that dead men were not able to issue contracts. Still his interest was picked and he wasn't going to stop on a technicality.

**≡][≡**

"It appears to be some unknown xenos construction..." There were few things that frustrated her more than an unknown xenos construction. Specially in a forge world, that didn't look like a forge world at all. She was after all a member of the Ordo Xenos. As such it was her duty that such constructions didn't remain, or at least didn't remain unknown, for long.

"Brother Caleb does this architecture remind you of something?" Brother Caleb, was the most knowledgeable of the kill team when it came to Xenos, both as his rank as Apothecary and as his chapter of Origin. It is well known that the Guardians of the Covenant thrive in old archives.

"The Record of Oblivion makes no mention of this Xenos. I'm sorry Inquisitor." It was worth a try.

The longer she observed the structures through the magnoculars the more uneasy she was. The architecture seemed to flow, there were almost no geometric angles it was almost as if it had grown instead of being constructed. Some of it reminded her of the Eldar crafts.

"We will need to get a closer look. Brother – Captain on your lead." At the moment they were atop a mesa observing the structures from afar. If they were to identify them, they would need to move closer. Much closer.

Ran-Aldib the captain and leader of the kill team was an imposing Astartes, he was old for his kin and his eyes shone with a mix of barbarian cunning and scholarly strategist. The Mentors chapter enjoyed to collaborate with other imperial formations, and the vigil in the Deathwatch was a unique opportunity for such an endeavour. His weapon was old, some said that it was as old as the Heresy, being a Charnabal Sabre, a Relic Blade of impeccable craftsmanship. As the Brother – Captain intoned a silent prayer he donned the equally old Storm Shield, tinted in the black and silver of the Deathwatch.

"Brother Baldassare lead the charge. Brother Accipiter provide support."

The assault marine hailing from the Lamenters gripped his ancient power spear and caressed his winged jump pack. He was said to be a being of striking beauty, many saying that he would made his gene father proud. Accipiter for his part was a ghost, his skin had turned white long ago and his hair was pitch black, many took him for a member of the Raven Guard but he was in fact of a successor chapter the Raptors. His weapon of choice was the "raven patern" shotgun. As the Lamenter he also wore a jump pack but his was small, and extremely adapted for jungle warfare.

"Brothers Mihai, Agrippa spread out and provide cover."

The other three brothers excelled at scouting and providing covering fire. Both Mihai, from the Blood Ravens, and Agrippa from the Imperial Reavers, had been trained by great scouts themselves Cyrus and Torias Telion were well renowned scout instructors. Both were very close, favouring M.40 Targeter bolter themselves. Their biggest difference being over the Codex Astartes, relic which the Blood Raven was surprisingly not keen in adopting.

As they approached the structure they were themselves observed. Small points started to ping in the auspex of the brother – captain, a piece of archeotect taken from the watch vaults. Small machines seemed to swirl around them contenting themselves in studying the magnificent space marines.

"Captain Ferros, this is Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib it seems that the xenos possess some kind of cloaking technology. Remind the patrol to use their auspex."

The Astartes kept their advance, reliant to spring the trap, luring more of the enemy towards them before reviling in the fight. But then a vox message arrived.

"Brother – Captain, thanks. It seems that the patrol has also encountered several of those devices. Their exact words were 'Frak we are surrounded'. The xenos seem to be using some Abominable Intelligence. My boys are under heavy fire... would you mind diverting some of it?"

With a smile Brother – Captain of the Watch Ran-Aldib, hailing from the Mentors Chapter pronounced the words.

"Suffer not the Xenos to live."

Hell ensued.

**≡][≡**


	2. Brave New World

****≡][≡**   
**

"Captain Ferros, this is Brother-Captain Ran-Aldib it seems the xenos possess some kind of cloaking technology. Remind the patrol to use their auspex."

The storm trooper did as recommended, and the reports from the patrol were confusing at best, nothing showed on the auspex. At least nothing showed at first, when the captain heard a "Frak" over the vox he ran. Soon he was able to observe from atop the Ollanius' Revenge and what he saw was... confusing. The patrol lead by Sergeant Boon and formed by twelve of his men was walking slowly at the shade of one of the mesas, between them and the vessel there were some smaller rock formations, but not tall enough to obscure the sight. The snipers were laying there each holding a long rifle. Each weapon was as different from the others as the users themselves were.

"Sergeant. What am I looking at?" Sergeant Argol was one of the best spotters in the troop. She had keener eyes that an Elysian Hawk and for Captain Ferros that meant much. She was also one hell of a scout, had they been on forested terrain she would be leading the patrol and not Sergeant Boon. Her rifle, a well cared long-las stocked on nalwood wouldn't miss a shot.

"Don't know cap', Boon says that there are some things moving at the edge of the auspex, but I can't see... Feth! There. Kazakh check the tree half a klicks to the left of trooper Greene"

"Sweet cold Emperor shinies. It's like a white moth on the snow. Permission to engage captain." Kazakh was the youngest of the sniping team, amicably known as Second Son, for his Vostroyan ancestry, the lad was good and kind of crazy he had volunteered when his brother had died on the first mission. He carried a weapon so old it might just be a las-lock, but if something needed to be stopped he was the man.

"Wait, what do you see?"

"Another one two kiloms forward." This was trooper La'Ahad "They are like Tau stealth armours, impossible to see and this seem to be smaller and capable of flight. Still they ripple the sand if they move too close." La'Ahad knew about sand, his Shemagh a clear proof, he was the fastest of the snipers and in his hand the modified las carbine could fire thrice before the first shot hit.

The other two snipers, started looking for it. The captain couldn't help himself to marvel at the care that trooper Konig used to treat his needle rifle, such a big man crouching behind such a delicate and small weapon still seemed strange. For his part trooper Scalber seems contempt with a standard issue long-las covered in white cloth.

"Bad news." The captain adjusted his vox frequency and shot a short message to Boon. "Infiltrated units around you. Watch for ripples in the sand. Engage in 3."

The storm trooper captain raises his hand.

2

The sniper tighten and adjust the grip on their weapons.

1

Everyone holds their breath.

"Fire."

The order was followed by rapid firing from the sniper team, each had chosen a different target and all those target were hit. The effects were not all the same, the needle rifle failed to make any apparent damage, and only the extra punch of the lass weapons damaged the probes enough for them to fail. As the metal corpses fell to the ground movement arose around the patrol. The fallen spotters were not the only ones.

"Frak we are surrounded."

The auspex was able to tell the presence of the shapes when they moved and there were many. What was worse, a group of... something was moving in their direction from atop the rocky formation.

"Troopers fall back, get away from the hill and towards those rocks down there, something is coming from above."

The patrol fell back on an ordered motion taking a good sight of the auspex and occasionally shooting one of the hotshot lasguns if those probes got to close. Meanwhile the sniper team was waiting for whatever was atop the rocky formation. It didn't take long to appear. That was the first time that they saw the Xenos.

**≡][≡**

" _Khassar de templari!"_ Somehow the Terrans had spotted the probes before the charge and now they were retreating. It didn't matter all would fell before the boundless fury of the Protoss templars. Four zealots jumped, and then four more. Their golden armour reflecting the light of the sun, a sight to behold and their psychic blades shimmering as they fell towards their prey.

" _None can withstand the Templar!"_

Behind them two Immortals stood at the edge of the cliff. Their long range weapons forced the Terrans to duck and cower behind the rocks. Those cowards wouldn't see what was coming for them. Supporting the Protoss artillery two sentries stood by the towering Immortals reinforcing their shields with their own. For his part Dark Templar Talrisis observed from the Oracle. There were a few things that weren't right. This Terrans... they didn't look armed like Terrans at all, those were clearly not marines and they had somehow spotted the Observers swarming around them, that wasn't good.

No it wasn't good, and Talrisis would describe what happened next as even worse. As the zealots charged long range shots from the ship hit them. A beam not too different to what his observer could fire hit the Immortals. Nothing that their shields couldn't resist of course, but for a moment it gave them pause.

Pause that the pinned Terrans used to recover and shoot at both the charging zealots and the towering immortals. Those Terrans had portable laser weaponry! Plasma weaponry! And something that spit explosions that the Dark Templar couldn't identify. Fearing the worst Talrisis and his Oracle entered the frail.

**≡][≡**

"Trooper Korrick. Stop what you are doing. The patrol is under attack from the Xenos they will need extraction soon, get the Chimera running."

He lamented getting Korrick out of his task, after all the veteran steel legionnaire was tasked in instructing some members of the Navy into driving the Leman Russ tanks that they had in the cargo bay. The tanks weren't too complicated to manoeuvre, and they had enough artillery gunners to be good at shooting, but he had wanted his best driver in charge of the instruction. Now he wanted his driver getting his men out of the frak.

"Trooper Van Saar, this is Captain Ferros. Inform the Magos that we have engaged the enemy. If he joins us at the observation desk he might be able to see something interesting before we wipe them out."

The Captain smirked and looked through the magnoculars at the battle it seemed that targeting the firing units above was a lack of ammo, they had portable shields. Portable shields! For the lost primarchs that was cheating.

"Sergeant Boon concentrate fire on the charging Xenos if they want to get close and personal don't let them, the ones atop the cliff seem to be impervious to damage."

Magos Explorator Gobadiah Dregmek of the Adeptus Mechanicus had seen many things since he had left the desserts of Angelis to roam the stars with the Explorator Fleets and later as the retinue of Inquisitor Kayleck. But he hadn't seen whatever those things on the battlefield were. He didn't need a magnoscope, he once again thanked the Omnissiah for the insight in replacing one of his eyes by a cogitator capable of seeing this far. Unconsciously he raised one of his mechadentrites to caress the orange fur of the Jokaero at his shoulder. By the unwavering concentration of the beast it seemed that it hadn't seen such thing either. One part of him, one part that he should had left back at his homeworld, was intrigued by this new technology. Another part of him reminded him of the quest of knowledge, citing the Ninth Universal Law.

"The Alien Mechanism is a Perversion of the True Path. Captain, those xenos are using Abominable Intelligence." The voice sounded metallic and gruff, almost unfocused. "But whatever can be salvaged will be for the Quest of Knowledge."

As the red Magos spoke a flying unit appeared above the fight. It seemed to attempt to circle the patrol to frak them from the rear. Once it positioned itself it started a beam, not dissimilar to their own laser weapons at the troopers below. The Chimera was making good speed, but had still not arrived, if those artillery platforms on the cliffs fired at the tank it might complicate things. It was time to get some hell out of his men.

"Brother-Captain, thanks. It seems that the patrol has also encountered several of those devices. Their exact words were 'Frak we are surrounded'. The xenos seem to be using some Abominable Intelligence. My boys are under heavy fire... would you mind diverting some of it?"

**≡][≡**

The attack on the Terran didn't go as Talrisis had expected. They had soon switched the focus from the Immortals to the Zealots. Even if they were also equipped with psychic shields the concentrated fire proved too much for them, the exposed skin absorbing the laser light before blistering, drying and even exploding. Although he supported them with the pulsar beam of his Oracle he soon was also overwhelmed by Terran fire. As the Oracle fell to the ground. Talrisis ordered the Sentries forward attempting to distract the Terrans with their Hallucinations while the two surviving Zealots and himself pressed to the melee using the distraction.

This were not Terran like he had fought before, once the Protoss were too close they had used their rifles as if they were spears, wielding their bayonets with mastery. Some of them even had drawn swords, and other close quarters weapons. Talrisis charged towards one of those, striking with a descending arc of his scythe at the Terran. Maybe they had strong firepower, but once up close and personal the psychic blades mowed them. Using the impulse of his sword he attacked another one, taking one arm in a clean swipe. A leg followed. The cloaked Dark Templar was avenging the falling zealots with might. Once he saw the terran leader, he charged with decision. His psychic scythe cut deep biting at the shoulder. It would have bisected the terran were it not for the human's sword. A sword crackling with energy that proved capable of stopping the spectral blade. For a moment the eyes of Talrisis lost themselves in the purple eyes of the human.

"AVE IMPERATOR!"

The terran raised his sword, as he kicked Talrisis forward before slashing. The reflexes of the Dark Templar were the only thing that saved him. Looking around, searching the aid of his kin Talrisis found himself alone.

" _Retreat"_

**≡][≡**

The Captain observed through the magnoculars how the pilot emerged from the downed aircraft, suddenly disappearing from sight. Their cloaking technology was good. Extremely good. Fortunately the short and chaotic range of the melee ended soon. The xenos had vanished in thin air as they fell and soon there were none left. He intoned a silent thankful prayer to the Emperor and was relieved to see that most of his men were capable of walking by themselves into the transport.

"Quartermaster Ivy, the patrol is moving back towards the medic tent. Some medical assistance will be necessary."

**≡][≡**

"Suffer not the Xenos to live!"

The Astartes charged forward. No one stood on their wake.

**≡][≡**

"I've heard you were dead."

It was a bad comment. Commander Sertes knew, every other mercenary in the room new. Except for the Death Head. The Death Head was clearly crazy.

"Only MOSTLY dead."

Maybe that was true Commander Sertes told himself, maybe it was galactic magic, maybe the stories had only been exaggerated, maybe it was only a man cashing in the name of another, or maybe who knows. What was certain is that he had a lot of cash. A lot of credits. And a lot of mercenaries at his bay.

If the stories that Sertes had heard were correct he was a smuggler, a crime lord. That would explain the cash. If the rumours the Wild Pig Commander had heard were also true he had collaborated with the UED, had done some weird things with Protoss technology and even controlled some Zerg. Sertes wished that was true, at least the last part. If he and the men were going to jump into Mar Sara he wanted a crazed mother fucker capable to come back from the dead and control Zerg. Mar Sara was infested with Zerg.

"Listen up, not one day ago a massive ship appeared above Mar Sara and crashed into it. I mean Massive the thing must have been ten times this vessel. The Scavengers would like to know where such a massive spacecraft came from, and how could it move unnoticed. Something this big can be a lot of credits, a ton for whoever gets there firsts. The Scavengers will." The man gave a short pause, smirking. "Good news for you all. You are the Scavengers."

**≡][≡**

Inquisitor Kayleck knelt besides the only fallen body that they had found so far. There hadn't been many xenos to begin with, but the few that opposed them had disappeared as they fell. It hadn't been an even fight. The space marines had reaped through their ranks like gods incarnate. Nothing had been able to stop the tide. Sensing the relative weakness of the inquisitor many had charged her, only to discover that she was from powerless. Although she lacked the black carapace and the strength of the Astartes she still donned a power armor of fine crafting. Still her best defense wasn't the hardness of the adamantium the thing that protected her the most, but her Spatial Impasse Generator, moving her out of harm way whenever any xenos would have landed a hit, or her Ulumeathi Plasma Syphon that rendered several of the aliens ranged weapons useless. Her hands occupied by an ancient boltgun and a finely crafted needle pistol, she would dance with any alien that attempted to take her.

Only the intervention of a xenos psyker, who had conjured a storm on top of the space marines, had given the imperial raid pause. Time that the surviving aliens had wisely used to run. Disappearing in what seemed to be a piramidal temple, the only structure of note in the compound. The deathwatch had entered it but returned empty handed, the xenos had escaped their judgement. Kayleck lamented that there were no living xenos to interrogate.

"They don't seem to have a mouth."

Interrogating them would have proven complicated.

"Brother – Captain what can you tell me?"

The astartes unfastened his helmet and took one of the dead from the ground like it was weightless. Like a children reaching for a sweets jar his hand pressed against the temples, and with a wet noise revealed the interior. Soon the kid got his candy.

"Their mind is strong. Hard to read. Surprising."

"Anything?"

"I'm sorry Inquisitor, the thoughts are too complex and too well rooted. This hasn't happened before. I can only gather Khalai Protoss, whatever that means."

Inquisitor Kayleck could never get used to seeing the omophagea in effect. But she had never expected it to be rendered useless, or almost useless.

"Did they know about us? Imperials I mean."

The astartes took another bite while pondering on the questions.

"Terrans."

She gave short nod and thought on the next step.

"Brother – Captain we are taking that body to the Ollanius' Revenge, perhaps the Magos or our... guests will be able to tell us more."

**≡][≡**


	3. I got better

**≡][≡**

Things were looking brighter. He didn't have his warrant back. No. Nor he had a ship. But they had crashed somewhere. Somewhere that wasn't an inquisitorial world with a firing squad. He also had gotten himself out of the damn jail. Sitting all day confined in such a small space wasn't a destiny for someone of his stature. He could trace the Velonius name back to the Great Crusade. The Emperor himself had granted them the Warrant and they had taken it to the stars.

There was no one greater than him. No one. And what if he had gifted some tanks to the Tau? Tau wines where in high demand on several paradise worlds. Yeah the Tau had used those same tanks in some backwater Emperor forsaken world. Who cared? No one, that's who.

The Ordo Xenos may claim that they cared. But Velonious knew the truth. They hadn't cared at all. No they were sent after him by someone jealous of his Warrant, of his ship, of his contacts. Yes. The inquisitor was a tool and a fool.

A tool and a fool that he planned to use.

Upon leaving his confinement and learning that they were in fact in an unidentified planet, the crew referred to it as Graia, but he had been at the forgeworld and this wasn't it. Perhaps in a long time it might become a world of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Now it was only a blasted planet without claimant. And it was his to claim. Even if for now it had to be in His name.

The Inquisitor wanted to use the few of his crew that she had spared. That worthless woman... had no eye for business. She had accepted his terms, or most of them, fast and quick. He was to be allowed out of that damn hole. Allowed to touch the planet below. And given respite.

In exchange the Rogue Trader had ensued the collaboration of his two cellmates. They were an odd couple. Two Xenos that had costed him a planet and a moon. But they were good. Oh, yes they were. And they were his. Whatever the Inquisitor thought they would bide their time and liberate their master in due time.

He had to admit that looking at the state of his companions the trade was greatly skewed in his favour. Alith who once had been his shipmaster looked terrible. The warp travel and the planet fall hadn't been good to the corsair. There were red scabs under his nose, and ears, as if blood had flowed from them openly. His hair, at times ordained in a perfected braid was now a mass of tangled, dirtied, messed dreadlocks. His only open eye was inflamed, deprived of sleep and rest. He had spoken little and eaten less since he had been taken captive. Velonious couldn't help but think that the unrest of the Eldar was in part due to the other partner. The Kroot bodyguard spooked even him. The beast was gaunt, and long limbed, keeping to itself. If Alith had spook little the Kroot had made even less sounds. But it had eaten. Oh sweet Emperor on His throne it had eaten plentifully. Velonious believed himself possessor of a hard stomach, and the Xeno hadn't disturbed him much, after all he had had him in his vessel for a few years. It keep mostly to dry meat, hunting whenever he was far away from the Rogue Trader. Now that they were confined Velonious had had time to observe. And he had seen everything. Even the aquila tattoo in what he had assumed to be dry jerky.

Yes the Rogue Trader had traded his companions for his freedom. Or to get away from them, even him wasn't sure. But once he had transferred their contracts he had been out, and able to explore. It hadn't taken him long. No. He had claimed the planet, for the Imperium, at the first opportunity.

**≡][≡**

The captain observed the laboratorium he had seen many bodies being opened, yes, but those had been in the heat of the battle and with a sword at hand. Doing it on a cold table with servitors and scalpels seemed wrong. Really wrong. But the Inquisitor had tried most things that occurred to her already, she had checked every tome, every dataslate, every information that she could put on her hands. The Tome of Vethric, The Record of Oblivion, The Calixian Black Grimoire, even the heretical Xenology. There wasn't any mention of this Khalai Protoss, or whatever they were. He had seen the inquisitor taking a dire step and asking the Xenos prisoners for help, to no avail. The Kroot hadn't seen such a creature before but offered to eat it and tell what it could to the Inquisitor. The captain's stomach had disliked the idea, even if Kayleck had reminded him that it was usual among Kroots to eat sentient beings. Alith, who seemed much more complete once he had drawn away from the Kroot hadn't been able to provide information. He claimed that the Eldar hadn't encountered any creature like that. The Inquisitor had been pressed for information and now she pushed a scalpel through the remains of the dead Khalai Protoss.

**=][=**

Talrisis observed the after effects of the battle. Several of their numbers would end being interred on Immortals. Others less fortunate wouldn't even have that live. This Terrans had been tough, and the Protoss dig site had been weak. Not for the first time Talrisis lamented that the Hierarchy didn't approve of their diggings in Mar Sara. Xel'Naga relics were a source of knowledge, of power, and the Protoss needed both. Even if they had to dig it out in a Zerg infested planet. Even if they had to keep themselves in the move, dancing around Terran attacks. The Hierarchy didn't see it, they said it was too risky. Too risky! If they had more resources, more templars, they would show those meddlesome Terrans what it meant to mess with the Protoss. It wouldn't be a risk at all with proper troops and resources.

The tribe leader had called a gathering, it wasn't unusual but he had been greatly damaged on the Terran raid. The leader had had to conjure a storm of psionics, and that was beyond his capabilities and skills. He wasn't a Templar, someone created for war, no, he was a constructor, a crafter, an artist. The attack had taken a toll on his mind.

" _Dark Templar... we are few now. The Hierarchy doesn't approve of our movements. We don't have enough troops."_

The thought was a discouraging one, but true nonetheless.

" _I fear so tribe leader. If we were to be under attack again, by the Terrans or the Zerg, we might..."_

" _Yes. The Zerg."_

_"What with the Zerg, tribe leader?"_

" _They have enough troops."_

**≡][≡**

They had learned nothing of the Khalai Protoss. Oh, they had seen the interior. They had gathered some things. But useful information? Not much. The Inquisitor suspected that they fed on light, and were a highly psionic race. Even if those things were true the Captain couldn't see their use. No, they were on a stalemate. The Kroot had eaten the corpse, all of it, and after that always accompanied the Ordo Xenos. Captain Ferros wasn't sure how to feel about it, the alien made him more uneasy than any other alien before, but it acted like a protective shadow towards the Inquisitor. The other alien had requested permission to get back its armour and weapons, request that had been logically denied, and had ended serving with Quartermaster Ivy, aiding the Krieg veteran with the camp's organization and allowing her to focus on the surviving soldier's treatment.

They had lost four troopers, during the xenos skirmish, all of them had been cut like dry leaves. The rest of them were in different states of damage. Two were hurt beyond the Quartermaster's and the medics' capabilities. Those two had been given the Emperor's peace. Six men, the captain had lost six men. At least the other six would make it, even if the medical aptitude of his troops had to be combined with the mechanical expertise of the Magos and his enginseers. The captain swore to himself that he wouldn't loose any of his troopers.

No more.

**≡][≡**

"Coordinates fixed. Contact estimated in thirty minutes." The robotic voice of the adjutant reminded the bridge of the path they had fixed. Soon they would be atop the strange vessel, that ship that had fallen in Mar Sara.

Their patron had pushed most of the commander's into the flag ship, the Duke's Revenge, a vessel as old as the Terran Confederacy that had turned mercenary soon enough. The silence was palpable in the small command bridge. Perhaps they were nervous about the mission, maybe they were concerned with the idea of standing side by side with old turncoats. The Scavengers paid well, and as long as their leader kept them focused things would work out, no mercenary would risk an attack on the downed ship on their own. Going rogue was a bad idea, the moment one of them did it the others would jump on them.

"Contact time in twenty five minutes." The adjutant was also an old piece of technology, an old assemblage of metal that spooked Commander Serte. Most modern adjutants were synthetic, made to look human. The old ones... they were cybernetic. Listening at the machine the war pig needed to remind himself that it was not mocking him.

"Contact time in twenty minutes."

**≡][≡**

Talrisis was running. Again he thanked his skill in reading the mysteries of time as he jumped avoiding the spine of the hydralisk that was chasing after him. Attracting the Zerg's attention hadn't been difficult.

The Zerg just needed to reach a critical mass, when there were enough stampeding after him it would be too difficult to stop them. Then he would teleport away, and let the swarm deal with the Terran. Or perhaps, the strange human newcomers would use their laser weapons to deal with the Zerg. Either way the Protoss would remain, stronger to take the spoils.

**≡][≡**

"There is a warp reading with 87.217% accuracy. Something is coming."

The voice of the Magos took over the vox, there was no excitement nor emotion on the statement only certainty. Merciful Emperor someone had found them. But what would it be? Would it be the Imperium in a rescue mission? Somehow the Storm Trooper Captain doubted it.

"Captain Ferros, I don't want anyone atop the Ollanius, we don't know what is coming. Get all the men inside of the shield's area."

The Inquisitor was as unconvinced as he was. Nodding he made the sign of the aquila and he started to follow the orders to the best of his capabilities. Most troopers gathered into the medical compound at the shadow of the Ollanius. There they were received by a nightmare. The navigator, who had been kept sedated since the accident awoke. It's eyes were spluttering blood and it's mouth was bleeding profanity.

"The Shadow is coming! The Shadow is gathering!"

All the troopers receded, moving away keeping themselves from the black deep eye of the Navigator.

"The Shadow, the Shadow!"

All but the Quartermaster, unflinching, impervious she advanced. She stood before the Navigator.

"THE THRONE IS EMPTY! THE SHADOW IS HERE!"

"The Emperor protects."

Not many had heard the voice of the Quartermaster but it was as her full persona, blank, devoid of intent or emphasis. Quiet, silent, and lethal. With ease, making a slow movement she injected a really strong sedative in the Navigator's body who fell limp on the table.

The Captain had seen and heard enough.

"Inquisitor this is Captain Ferros. I would say that we prepare a really bad welcoming party."

"I agree Captain. I've requested Magos Dregmek to divert all the available energy to the Castellan Shields and the redundant systems. Captain Herdess has control of the lanc..."

The vox signal jammed as an unknown vessel appeared above the Ollanius' Revenge.

**≡][≡**

"Contact time in two minutes."

Everyone on deck was at the observation bay. The thing they were after, that black ship, was indeed massive. Commander Serte had read the reviews but hadn't believed them. It dwarfed the Duke's revenge. It ought to be at least ten times larger. That was going to be complicated.

"Captain Jackson" The voice of the Scavenger resounded over the murmuring of the ship "Fire at will, tear us a breach."

The Captain of the Duke's revenge did as instructed, while the Yamato charged he engaged with the secondary weapons.

"Yamato at 10% potency."

The voice of the adjutant remained forgotten on the background as everyone observed the effect of the laser batteries and the missile pods. Their potency didn't seem enough to breach the defense matrix of the downed ship. But that was to be expected they were only to damage it so the Yamato could strike true.

"Yamato at 30% potency. WARNING! WARNING! Heat signature shows armament charging on target."

A storm of salvos and laser armament stormed around the grounded ship that trashed like an angry beast. Captain's Jackson skill was to be commended for he danced around the fire with mastership. The few shots that made it through stopped by the strong defensive matrix. The accompanying fleet transports weren't as lucky.

"Yamato at 60% potency."

Around them their damaged fleet was crumbling. The crossed fire between the battleship and the grounded monster to intense for anything to fly on their wake. The War Pig considered the cunning of the Scavenger, he certainly had recruited several mercenaries but had forced the most veterans into the flag ship. At first he thought it a ruse to get keep them in their toes against each other, now... he was not so sure.

"Yamato at 90% potency."

A new salvo erupted from the ground, this time the side weapons of the ship accompanied the obvious defence turrets. Someone down there didn't want them to stay on the air. What hit them couldn't be avoided for it was a dark cloud. A cloud of utter blackness that for a moment blinded their engines and their stopped their targeting systems.

"Yamato at 100% potency."

The Duke's Revenge was falling, damaged by the lasers that had hit it in the dark cloud, but before it was taken a command was given.

"Fire!"

**≡][≡**


	4. Fanning the flames of Revenge

**≡][≡**

The flies warmed over the fallen one, in their voracity they had taken it for a corpse. But it bite back. As the black ship attacked several of the minor vessels plummeted to the ground in explosions of debris and fire. The flies had bitten though, and their stings had diminished the shell of the fallen vessel. No one would admit it, but the Castellan Shield was under stress. The Ollanius' Revenge wasn't build for fighting, no, it had been built to explore. To boldly go where no man has gone before. It had been there, during the Great Crusade, reaching far and farther into the stars. It's mind, it's cogitators, it's machine spirit was old. Far older than the machine itself remembered. And it didn't take well to be stung by flies.

"We are blind!"

Captain Herdess voice was beyond worried, she had directed most of the servitors to the turrets of the vessel, an amalgamation of ordinance batteries and minute laser weapons that had been constructed and improved by the Magos and his Jokaero.

"They are attacking our vox and auspex systems. Clever."

The voice of the Magos was as inflexible as ever. He stood on the bridge, extending its mechadentrites and connecting, pleading, to the spirit in the machine. The blessing to the Omnissiah subsumed in a language that no living being could understand, a chatter so fast, so mechanic that it would have made anyone cringe in fear.

A sliver of vision returned from one of the monitors as the eyes of Ollanius' oppened once again. They saw how the attacking ship, much smaller than their own, charged their lasers.

"Magos I don't know what you are doing but keep doing it!"

"I'm not doing anything Captain. I'm just asking the Machine Spirit. Nicely."

"Machine Spirit! You hear me? Get that thing out of th..."

"The Machine Spirit cannot be communicated in su..." A dark flare from the side of the vessel that pointed upwards interrupted the Magos. The dark cannons have fired. The dark cannons, weapons that they weren't able to understand and as far as they knew shouldn't work ever, still worked. A silent prayer of thanks to the Omnissiah and to the insistence of the Inquisitor on using such weapon. The cannons fired dark particles, hence the unimaginative name, that swarmed around the enemy ship clouding the sky in a night of darkness. "...ch way. Blessed Omnissiah!"

"Ha! Hit them hard Ollanius'" The excitement of the Navy captain almost transferred to the seasoned Magos who soon intoned prayers of thanks in chipping binary. The excitement couldn't hide one thing, the dark cannons were not built to destroy a ship, they were made to blind them, giving the Ollanius' Revenge time to move, either away or towards. And this time there wasn't going to be much moving. Not only were their systems compromised, their warp drive was far from repaired.

**≡][≡**

They were engulfed by a black oily fog that clenched and stuck at its systems making their sensors beep in stretched noises.

"Fire!"

As the Yamato cannon fired those on deck realized two things. The first one, their targeting systems were off, for while the weapon pointed at the top of the enemy it hit at the bottom. The second one whatever they were against wasn't going to go down easily. It took the shoot and lost its shields, but whatever material it was made of was able to hold most of the damage, the tears they had made weren't going to be enough for the Thor.

"What was that? Charge the Yamato again. And Captain keep us up in the sky! I don't..."

At that moment the Scavenger was interrupted by the metallic voice of the adjutant.

"Targeting systems secured."

"This time we aren't going to miss."

Did they have time though? Their engineers were leading the cyber-attack against those below. But if the downed vessel was able to fire such a weapon wouldn't it be able to use its defensive turrets? And what was that weapon? The Terran Confederacy had never encountered such a device. Commander Sertes wasn't a pious man, but for a moment he wished he had taken the faith.

**≡][≡**

Magos Dregmek was running, well perhaps running wasn't the word. He was moving fast. As fast as he could. And that was really fast. He perched from one arc to the next using his mechadentrites to propel himself forward. Speed was paramount. In his soul rang the defiance of the Machine Spirit, something had attacked it, something had attempted to corrupt it, like a virus. Magos Dregmek didn't consider the Ollanius' Revenge spirit an irascible one, in fact it had a benevolent knack for curiosity. The Mechanicus intoned a silent prayer to the Omnissiah, dismissing the thought that the Machine Spirit was angry at its own curiosity.

**≡][≡**

"WARNING Impact imminent." The adjutant was unflinching.

"I cannot dance around all those missiles and lasers while still pointing the Yamato." The voice of Captain Jackson sounded terse, tired, nervous.

"Crap." The Death Head was right thought Commander Serte. It is time that the proverbial fecal matter hits the proverbial fan.

"Defense Matrix is down. Yamato canon at 90%"

**≡][≡**

The Magos intoned the rituals. Their shields were down, stripped by the weapons of the attackers. Most of their weapons were malfunctioning, somehow silenced by the attackers. The enginseers were praying all around, chanting the rituals on their weapons and armour. He... he wasn't praying in front of a tool of destruction. No, it was a way of survival. It had saved them many times and it would save them more. He kept praying while focusing his view in the Machine Spirit of the device. He saw it. Like a black cancer, one of its claws pining at the core. He sang in binary, focusing with oils and candles. The ritual was all that mattered. Deviation from the ritual was death. Little by little he instilled the will to fight in the Machine Spirit. Soon, with a prayer of thanks to the Omnissiah, the Magos released the defensive countermeasures.

**≡][≡**

The adjutant was silent. Its eyes shone, with multiple colours jumping from one light to the other. Captain Jackson new the sign. And it wasn't good. Whoever was down there was not only able to sustain some of their cyber warfare they were also capable of hitting back. And they were hitting back with something strong, the Duke's Revenge firewalls were updated with everything legal and illegal. Whatever they were using wasn't of this age.

"Engineers! Ensure that the Yamato is operational. Now!"

As those men that had been focused on the cyber attack to the fallen ship did as commanded the weapons of the downed beast flared. They had driven too close.

"Yamato operational!"

"Men buckle up, this isn't going to be a nice landing. Fire!"

The captain shouted as the Duke's revenge was hit by lance batteries.

"WARNING critical damage. Breach in the hull." With a grin the captain thought that it was nice having the damned adjutant back. Then he fell with his ship.

**≡][≡**

" _Dark Templar Talrisis."_ The thought sounded troubled. Of course whoever was having it wasn't being followed by enough pack of Zergs to... lose count of how many pack of Zergs were following one.

" _Dark Templar Talrisis. There has been a new development. Can the mission be aborted?_ "

Talrisis didn't need to look over his shoulder to learn that the Zerg were still following him, and stopping them was going to be beyond possible.

" _I fear not tribe leader. What happened?_ "

" _Our observers have spotted a small Terran transport fleet lead by a battlecruiser. At first we feared reinforcements but they fired at the unknown vessel. Both are grounded now._ "

Two terran contingents for the price of one? What was the problem?

" _We fear that they will take heavy damage and be unable to damage the Zerg enough._ "

Dark Templar Talrisis wasn't a fool. He might be young. But he was knowledgeable when it came to time. One needed to be to pilot an Oracle. If the Zerg engaged and didn't have enough opposition they would end with a unified Zerg rush without target. Not for long. The Protoss scientist soon would be their focus.

" _I understand tribe leader. Can something else be attempted? Can collaboration between the Terrans be achieved?_ "

It was a gamble, and a gamble that could have unforeseen consequences. The response took so long that Talrisis didn't expect it.

" _It will be attempted. But I'm no Judicator. Anht zagatir nas dark templar._ "

" _Anht zagatir nas tribe leader._ "

**≡][≡**

"Listen men. The Emperor in its infinite wisdom only demands one thing from you. One simple little thing. That you die on your feet while shooting at His enemies. Don't worry about breathing, don't worry about living, don't worry about how crappy you are with your lasguns, don't worry about what is coming for you. Only point and shoot. You can do that. For you are the Imperial Gnavy!"

The Terrax trooper had been drilling the Navy with the Mordian and the Praetorian. And they had turned out to be reasonably good at standing and shooting. It was not a difficult demand that of the Emperor. They would hold.

**≡][≡**

"Okay boys, we don't know what is out there. But we know it is going to be worth a lot of credits. So we say, no complicated speeches! Just go and get it!" The Death Head leader was clearly not fit for speeches, but as he jumped making his jet pack roar his men followed.

**≡][≡**

" _Activation Code: H4XL00T._  Tribune Gyver you and the Classiarii are to secure the fallen enemy vessels. Take some Enginseers with you. It is the Omnissiah's will. For the Quest of Knowledge!"

Soon the Tech-guard marched in coordinated unison.

**≡][≡**

"We are all mercenaries here. We know war. We know casualties. But we also know that our transports can take a beating and our brothers are tough. I say we go get them out of their cans. Who is with me?"

Commander Serte was relieved when Hammer Securities, Devil Dogs, and Skibi's angels raised their hands.

**≡][≡**

"As the Emperor protects so must we."

Captain Ferros mobilized his troops around the medbay, they were going to be under assault soon and they would hold the line. The Emperor protects and so does the Imperial Guard.

**≡][≡**

"Agent X44802K. It is time. Show them fear."

The Scavenger didn't like her. But the Scavenger didn't need to like her. He only needed to command. She was his. She didn't need to like him. She only needed to obey.

**≡][≡**

"WHAT IS YOUR DUTY?" Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib demmanded.

"To serve Emperor's Will." Brothers Baldassare and Accipiter responded.

"WHAT IS EMPEROR'S WILL?" Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib demmanded.

"That we fight and die." Brothers Mihai and Agrippa responded.

"WHAT IS DEATH?" Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib demmanded.

"Our Duty." Brother Caleb responded.

"We are ready inquisitor."

"Good."

She had assembled the whole retinue. Onata the death cult assassin who was full of expectation holding her blades with anticipation. Sohd Na the infocyte who was full of fear patting his cogitator gauntlet with focus. Magos Dregmek the Explorator who was full of curiosity petting his Jokaero with humanity. Sister Silvana the Hospitalier who was full of faith and revised her Narthecium with determination. Athil the Eldar Corsair who was full of joy and caressed his melta gun with love. And the Kroot who was empty and stood away with grimness.

**≡][≡**

The Scavenger was ready. At another time, at another life he had piloted a goliath. He had been good at it. Great actually. He couldn't help himself but look at the machines of the Spartan Company with some nostalgia. But there were newer walker models, such as Vikings of the Hel's Angels. Or his Thor, Scheherezade.

Not many things could hold him back when he was piloting. No. As long as he stood away from the enemy ships batteries he would be like the god of thunder incarnate.

"Take what you can and give nothing back."

The Scavenger's mechanized infantry jumped into the frail.

**≡][≡**

The Protoss tribe leader studied the frail through the eyes of the Observers. It was hard to gauge how far Terran stupidity could reach but this ought to be a clear example of its extent. Both space crafts were on fire, something had ignited atop of them, shedding beacons of hate and revenge. The fires and the stars above Mar Sara the only light to illuminate the upcoming storm. For it was a storm, a storm of death with thunder of mortar and lightning of laser.

He had observed as Banshees flying mercenary colours had risen from the battlecruiser to soon be engaged by flying crafts from the unidentified ship. Although the known Terran units were capable of cloaking themselves whenever they were exposed their enemies ganged on them. It was like a dance. A dance that repeated itself across the battlefield.

He saw reapers blitzing around laser lightning. Shooting at big masses of Terran that somehow took their toll and kept firing. It was as if grim determination and resolve kept them standing. The Protoss respected bravery but that was fool, they were unarmoured.

Those that were, armoured, didn't fare much better. Marines, marauders, firebats and medics were fighting against Terrans that looked more machine than organic. Covered in red robes and heavy armour they gave their enemies pause. Each side fought with coordination, ones with the practice of veterans who avoided getting in the way of their allies and others with the perfection of automates incapable of committing a mistake. The ones in red didn't seem to feel pain, fear, or exhaustion. And they kept pressing.

The patterns kept repeating themselves, the tribe leader studied as a Terran ghost fought against the Terran who had pinned the potross Zealots. Those Terrans were good, they had shown a knack for tactics. But it wasn't enough. The ghost was a powerful mind. Tactics wouldn't be enough.

The centre of the battlefield though was something taken out of myth. He tried to see there, but it was difficult. As if there was a ball of void, a blank sphere of emptiness that made his head ache and his vision blur. He couldn't concentrate. He couldn't see more than flashes. One of those strange marines raising a Goliath with its barehands, the Thor shooting at blank range at an unarmoured woman... He pushed. He tried to see. There was only pain.

His mind was dulled. Somehow damaged. He didn't understand it and he didn't like it. He wasn't able to influence their leaders. Their were somehow, protected from intrusion. There was a note of panic on his mind a thought that he soon repressed. The Zerg were going to be here soon. He searched the battlefield someone who could listen. Someone who could protect.

**≡][≡**

Dark Templar Talrisis cloaked himself, the sound of battle above was almost as loud as the chatter of the Zerg behind.

He hoped the gambit would pay off.

The Zerg were rushing.

**≡][≡**


	5. Newcomer

**≡][≡**

He had been forgotten. Not forgiven, no, not yet. He wasn't to be forgiven any time soon. But he didn't want to. His sin had been profit. Profit! A sin! Once again he damned the name of the Inquisitor. Kaywinnit Haleck. He hated that name, despised it. At first he had fought her. Shouted and blamed the woman. But now... he was forgotten.

And Marcius Velonius wasn't to be forgiving that any time soon. Since he had born he had ensured that everyone remembered him. He had always been remembered. Mother was right. If they cannot love you at least they should fear you. They had feared and remembered him. The Inquisitor didn't fear. Didn't remember.

But Marcius Velonius wasn't finished. No. He would show her. He would. And that would be the last thing that she would ever remember.

**≡][≡**

One heartbeat, captain Ferros of the D-99 Elysian ducked again into cover. Two heartbeats a bullet, as big as a bolter round, impacted against where he had been standing. Three heartbeats sergeant Argol of the First and Only fired his trusted long-las, trooper Scalber of the Indentured Squadron's weapon followed. Four heartbeats Argol rolled ducking, Scalber reloaded. Five heartbeats there was a bullet mark where Argol had been and a bullet in Scalber forehead. Six heartbeats captain Ferros breathed again.

They were pinned in the medicae tent. A warp of a sniper was holding them down like rats. Only a handful of his men were able of returning fire. Throne half of his men were incapable of even seeing the enemy. It was out of auspex range and there wasn't much to do. He risked a glance to the end of the room where Quartermaster Ivy tended impassible to the wounds that could be saved. There was no salvation for Scalber. Only the Emperor's Peace.

He did the sign of the Aquila and prayed for a miracle. A miracle that would spare his men to serve Him another day. A miracle that would let them die doing what they were meant to do, bringing death to Xenos scum.

A lightning of green artificial light roared in the room. The auspex shrieking in pain as many more targets that it was capable of pinpointing drowned its screen in light. The thunder soon followed, a Xenos roar echoed in many alien throats, promising death and doom.

For the first time in his long career captain Ferros considered that the Emperor answered his plea. For his time he committed heresy, in thinking if that was His response it would had been better not to bother Him.

"Well troopers, our prays are answered. Now we have enough targets for everyone."

Captain Ferros raised another plea, a short one. Let me save my men.

**≡][≡**

Commander Sertes had seen things like their enemies. Long ago. In a flick rescued from the ATLAS. It had been a hell of an exit at the theatres of Tarsonis. He had enjoyed it, in fact he had considered the parallels with religion and thought that if any God was as awesome as the things depicted in that flick it was worth following. Now he was older, wiser, and he new two things. The first of all, he certainly should have taken religion at some point, this seemed like an ideal time to pray. The second one, and the most important, if anyone would ever consider the idea of merging man and machine in front of him in the future he would put a bullet through their skull. Better that than to have to face this... things.

Most of them, that is most of their bodies, were made of metal. Black coated metal that seemed dense enough to survive in the void of the space. And he could understand that. He had seen robots. But their faces, this things had been human at some point, now the only thing that was left were perfectly chiselled cheeks, a strong chin and an unflinching grin. The rest of it. Was machine. Metal. Cold black metal. And they were wearing crimson robes and hood, giving them the sinister image of a bird of prey whenever they bowed and launched towards him and his men.

The Wild pig considered that even if their image was scary, it might not be the worst of them, and once again raised his ballistic combat shield to stop one of their axes. The cog edge of the thing raised sparks and bite bits off of his shield. He pointed his rifle at the torso of the thing and fired at full auto.

The thing went down but another one of their ranks, this one with metal tentacles out of its shoulders was soon atop of it chanting in a incoherent language that sounded more like static than any other thing the commander had heard before. Soon the damned thing was raising itself again.

Commmander Sertes cursed under his breath, and decided that if there was something akin to an almighty, that the religions spoke off it was a good time to start asking for help.

"Someone, push this things out."

"We are surrounded commander."

The voice of the Skibi's Angel sounded calm and composed. She didn't even look around while making her assertion too distracted she was with the body of a fallen marauder.

"I know. Are you a church goer doctor?"

Sertes new better than to engage in a conversation in the middle of combat, but somehow he felt compelled to ask for help.

"I am."

"Would you mind... praying for us?"

He didn't have to wait long, soon a wave of reinforcements arrived. They tore at the robomen with claw, horn and fang. Their organic shrieks eclipsed the metallic shrieks. Sertes couldn't keep himself from laughter. That God had a sick sense of humour. He could respect that.

"Next time specify that we want Terran and not Zerg to get us out of the frail."

"He works in mysterious ways, commander, but I'll be sure to do so."

Soon the Terrans were too busy fending off robomen and Zerg to have time to worry.

**≡][≡**

Talrisis joined the tribe leader at the observation zone. The dark templar studied how the old Protoss struggled mentally, straining itself, trying to direct the Terran forces. Focus them in fighting the Zerg instead of their own.

Talrisis new better than to distract the elder. He sat by him and studied his handy work. What he saw was death. Both Terran armies had taken to kill each other with glee and the addition of the Zerg had only increased the body count. Wherever he looked there was fighting and death. He saw banshees and other Terran flying crafts blitzing around swarms of mutalisks. He saw unarmoured Terrans shooting at reapers and at Zerglings.

One thing piked his interest. It was hard to see for most observers seemed to malfunction around the combat. But the combat between the leaders of the two main Terran groups was a sight to behold. He saw one of those gigantic walkers shoot point blank at an unarmoured assailant who charged at it with a sword. To later be vaporized by a quick ter... No it wasn't a Terran, it was similar to a Terran, but it wasn't. It was more... refined, regal. It's line were strong and full of muscle, but looking at him he got the same sensation that he got when looking at the Khalai. Farmers could be strong warriors. And they could be wise, wiser beyond doubt. Had the tribe leader seen such an alien? Were they another creation of the Xel'naga? There was another alien, a creature that moved with the same velocity if not the same grace. And he understood. Talrisis saw why the tribe leader wasn't being able to influence the Terran leaders. The creature connection to the void was strong, strong than his own the templar feared to admit, and such a strong presence would certainly diminish the psychic powers of the Khalai.

He saw how a pack of Zerg lead by five Ultralisks charged towards the main melee. He feared that the disarrayed Terrans would lose the fight. And then the Protoss would follow. It had been a mistake.

**≡][≡**

He observed from the ship. He was sure. Those Xenos would take care of the Inquisitor. They would. Yes. Once she was dead he would take the ship. It wasn't his ship. But it was a good enough one. He would get his warrant. It ought to be on the damned Inquisitor's cabin. He would get his payback.

**≡][≡**

Talrisis observed awestruck as the two Terran commanders switched focus from themselves to the upcoming Zergs. For a moment he considered that the tribe leader had succeeded at his objective but then saw that the elder was still maintaining strong concentration.

He saw them charge at the Ultralisk without fear or concern, those... marines were certainly cappable they moved around the beast blitzing fast. Their shoots were well pointed and always hit with strength. At first he thought that they only succeeded in enraging the beast further, but somehow they had made a chink in the creature's hide. The hole in the defences was rapidly exploited by the Goliath's and Vikings.

As minor zerg entered the frail the marines and the ground troops kept them away from the big walkers while they fought the bigger monsters. But the Zerg were far from powerless. He saw a Kaiser blade jamming into the cockpit of the Thor. And he saw a corruptor shooting its lethal slime at the strange Terran woman. She was fast, but not enough, and even if he parried the attack with one of her arms the corruption would extend fast. Talrisis new that she was doomed. Still he would commend her actions for unflinching she raised a sword and cut off her own arm as the tendrils of Zerg influence were extending into it. The Protoss saw them fall, one bleeding armless woman and one mutating arm.

"It is done."

The thought was only a whisper. He turned to the tribe leader who was gaunt and consumed by the effort. The dark templar rushed to his side fearing the worst.

**≡][≡**

"Inquisitor Kayleck is down. Brother – Apothecary Caleb ensures me that her vitals are stable but command is yours Captain Ferros."

The vox message hit him like a ram. This fighting was proving worse than expected. The Imperium needed to be informed of this new xenos races. The Emperor's fury would be swift.

"Brother – Captain escort the Inquisitor to the Ollanius' Revenge have Brother – Apothecary Caleb treat her in the med bay."

That command was necessary, given in a private vox message.

"This is Captain Ferros speaking with the authority of Inquisitor Hayleck. All troops are to disengage with the humans and focus on the Xenos. I repeat focus on the Xenos enemy. For the Emperor, suffer not the xenos to live."

That command had been at the back of his mind for a while, and now that he had the authority to issue it he did with haste.

"Trooper Korrick. I hope your trainees are ready, we are going to need those Leman Russ now."

**≡][≡**

"This is commander Serte we are suffering heavy loses. Requesting permission to retreat."

The radio message returned static, silent static bearing the silence of the dead. The Scavenger wasn't replying. Not that the mercenary commander cared much, he would retreat anyway, but the ship to get them out of the planet was in control of the Scavenger and it would be better to let the man believe that he was in command.

"I repeat this is commander Serte, requesting permission to retreat."

Again static. He looked at the mercenaries around him, all of them gave a short nod. He looked at the battlefield the zerg were fighting with strength but somehow the robomen seemed to be ignoring them. The third message was on the public radio channel.

"This is commander Serte. Disengage from the Terran enemy. Focus on the Zerg. And for the sake of all, get the siege breakers in the field."

**≡][≡**

Talrisis observed as somehow the Terrans turned the tables. They had suffered heavy loses but once they stopped fighting amongst themselves and fielded the tanks they were able to push the Zerg rush back.

"Dark templar I think we made a mistake."

"Why tribe leader?"

"We gave those Terrans a common ground."

"But otherwise the Zerg would have wiped them and they would soon be after us. It had to be done tribe leader."

"Yes. It is true. We would be dead. But how many would die if they mix. You have seen their technologies and their battle lust. Can you imagine a fleet with ships the size of that black one? Can you imagine troops as those that assaulted us at every Terran battle line?"

Dark templar Talrisis wasn't a coward. Dark templar Talrisis felt fear.

**≡][≡**


	6. The enemy of my enemy

**≡][≡**

Captain Ferros smiled drily at the Kroot. The Xenos had taken upon himself guarding that particular door, and the storm trooper know certainly well that if they had allowed it the alien would be at the other side. But that, that was something that couldn't be admitted, no, the Inquisitor needed rest. As much rest as she could get if she was going to make it.

With a grunt the bodyguard let him through, and he crossed the other into the private cabin. It was a strange space, full of wonders and mysteries. But mostly books. The personal collection of the Ordo Xenos was bloated, lacking any sense of order or consistency. A quick skim revealed a few books that he himself had recovered, a few others that would be considered heretical by a more pious person, and some others that made no attempt to hide their alien inscriptions. Yet he hadn't come there to ponder about the written word. With a flicker of his hand the wards on the room were reactivated, enclosing it from the ship and ensuing that there were no uninvited listeners. He approached the bed.

"How is she?"

Sister Silvana raised her face from her Narthecium and looked at the captain. She was attractive, with a face that only betrayed its age in the deepness of the eyes and an inexplicable glimmer that reminded of the saints of the Emperor.

"She is alive, captain."

That made Ferros sigh with relief, after all his destiny was bound to that of the Inquisitor. That if they could return to imperial space. Or if the conversations he had held with the local terran group were to be believed, imperial time. Either way, the best chance of survival passed through the Inquisitor.

"Her arm?"

The sister of the Order of the Eternal Candle nodded towards the end of the room. There inside a cylindrical crystal tank filled with clear fluid floated an arm. It wasn't human. At some point it might have been. Not now. Too far gone. Tendrils of meat extended from the joint at which it had been seceded, giving it the appearance of an elongated squid. Its meat was covered in scales, that seemed to merge and fuse into a structure more similar to the chitin of a large insect that any other thing that the veteran guard had ever seen. It's fingers were long, longer that they had been and ended in sharp claws that rested dangerously close to the glass. It had changed, even more, since the last time he saw it.

"Any sign of corruption?"

The question ringed for a moment on the room.

"Not that I can determine. And with the rate of change of the arm we can assume that if she was infested it would be apparent by now. No one else has seen it, as you ordered. And captain..."

"Yes?"

"It was probably a good idea to send the infocyte to the others. He is really good at digging knowledge, and eager to share it with those who will listen."

The implications of the comment didn't scape the stormtrooper. He didn't want to admit to himself that he didn't trust most of the Imperial group with the knowledge that their Inquisitor might be battling alien influence. After all they were all edgy from the things they had learned after the battle.

"The Emperor protects, Sister."

"The Emperor provides, Captain."

**≡][≡**

"But Magos Dregmek this is... heresy!"

The voice of the Electro-Priest crackled rife with static. His eyes sparked as he resonated the mysteries of the mechanicum.

"This contradicts the first warning, Magos. We cannot attempt this!"

Gobadiah Dregmek, Explorator of the Mechanicum of Mars, kept working undisturbed. His mechadentrites kept prodding at the machine, tearing it masterfully. Little by little, layer by layer, it was coming apart. Once its fundamental bits laid on the table he looked at the pestering Electro-Priest.

"Remind me of the fifth warning Electro-Priest."

"The knowledge of the ancients stands beyond question."

"Look at this. See. Similarities with a Mark II Jump Pack of 87.172%. Hypothesized prototype. Captain's Ferros hypothesis of past time aligns with current knowledge. Conclusion?"

"We can't know that we are in the past! Those... they don't even speak Imperial Gothic! This is impossible."

"Beyond question, Electro-Priest. Your aid is dismissed. Captain Ferros, enter."

The stormtrooper had been enjoying the comfort of the shadows by the door observing the conversation. Many conversation had happened in the black ship since their encounter with the local humans. It had been even worse when the xenos threat had disappeared leaving both sides with a lack of objectives. Luckily both of them had retreated, choosing to regroup around their respective vessels. The no man's land between the two human groups was ripe with scraps from the battle. Most of the Terran fleet discarded debris lay there, as a memento of the Imperial firepower. The patrols of both sides had chosen to ignore each other for the most part. But men did talk. And it was a trait of a good commander to listen.

"Good morning Explorator. Everything okay?"

The mechadentrites of the explorator moved swiftly taking a grav-chute with inquisitorial markings and started dismantling it.

"It is well past noon Captain. Everything is okay. Your hypothesis seems to be valid. Accurate. Strange."

The captain observed as the Explorator's pet Jokaero realigned the pieces of the taken jump pack and the grav-chute intermixing them with speed. He knew that the Explorator wasn't what others would call a typical techpriest but he had taken quickly to the idea that they were in ancient times. So quickly indeed that he had started taking every piece of technology that he could get his hands or his mechanical tentacles on. Soon a jump pack that looked more similar to what he was used to see laid in front of the red robed priest and the orange furred ape.

"Captain. Have you seen trooper Van Saar? He hasn't been observed in 92 hours 28 minutes 14 seconds."

He had seen trooper Van Saar indeed. He had seen him last time he had approached the fallen terran batlecruiser, with Van Saar and the info-cyte. He had done much that day, many things that others would consider madness deviant from the imperial creed, but that he called diplomacy. As the Hospitaller sister had said the info-cyte was remarkably good at getting new information. And he needed him away from the inquisitor for the time being. The vanus had proven himself capable of learning the language of their counterparts, and had volunteered for the task. Trooper Van Saar had only followed, after all if they were to put some of their men into the enemy's ship, even if it was a diplomatic mission, he wanted someone capable of understanding the technology and tools of their enemy.

"Yes. Explorator, I'm here for the request I made."

The priest mechadentrites caressed the orange fur while he pondered on the answer. A few seconds later the robed man moved to one of the other tables on the manufactorum. He unwrapped a perfectly chiselled metal female arm. It appeared more piece of art than mere technology but the storm trooper new that it was a sound piece.

"Once the Inquisitor is awake I will be able to conduct the final rites and blessings." A chip of static interrupted him. "Captain Ferros, I guess you will be informed soon. Trooper Van Saar has been spotted by the servo skulls, he is in the company of two unidentified individuals..."

The vox request on his ear gave the stormtrooper pause. Raising a hand he signalled the tech priest to stop. A click and in his ears rang the voice of trooper Buticularo. Before the trooper could finish the captain only said five short words. "I know. On my way."

**≡][≡**

The two people that accompanied trooper Van Saar were an unexpected bunch. A man who wasn't at place at the battlefield wearing what appeared to be a white long coat, and crystal clear glasses that contrasted with his Attilan appearance. By his side a woman who on the other hand moved with the subtlety of an eldar pathfinder, and who donned a tight body suit that would prove hard to penetrate. Weapons weren't apparent on any of the two, but the captain doubted that the man carried any and he knew for fact that the woman had plenty.

Trooper Van Saar did the introductions. "Captain Ferros, this are Doctor Wei-Hsai and Agent Deladrier." He then addressed the other two in what allegedly was their own language and smiled. The woman, Agent Deladrier didn't seem to react, while the Doctor, who didn't look like any medic the captain had seen just gave a nervous nod.

"Is he a medic?"

"I'm a Doctor." The imperial gothic of the little man was broken, but easily understandable. "I'm a doctor not a medic. A scientist, an engineer, a mechanic, a chemist."

Captain Ferros hadn't heard the word scientist, before but engineer, mechanic and chemist sounded familiar enough. The man didn't look like a tech priest at all, but of course this people didn't look like anyone that he had encountered before.

"Well, scientist you seem competent with Imperial Gothic, glad to make you acquittance. What do you want?"

"You have sent a scientist and an assassin into our ship. The commander saw fit to honour that by doing the same.

"Emperor's shinies..." The captain cursed under his breath, had they seen through the Vanus cover already?

"Screw Mengsk." The scientist cursed in time, and nodded towards Van Saar. "Your assassin is more polite than most and he has agreed to not carry a weapon." The trooper raised his empty hands, showing that in fact he was carrying no weapon. "Ours is quite, aren't you Deladrier?" The woman only gave a short nod and gestured with her also empty hands. "We won't cause trouble."

Somehow he was forced to agree to have an assassin in his ship. And something worse, a scientist, that the Terrans believed was capable of comparing to one of the finest of the Officio Assassinorum. Things were dire.

"The Emperor protects."

The scientist didn't loose time, once again cursing voicedly.

"Mengsk can blow me."

**≡][≡**

"Sergeant Boon. I didn't expect to see you out of the medicae so soon."

The sergeant smiled, and the pain was almost unnoticable in his smile. A long scar stretched from his shoulder to the lower part of his torso, and was dented in surgical metal that gave him the appearance of someone devout to the Omnissiah.

"The scientist used this and my recovery speed up." The sergeant was holding a gun. "Look." He hold it close to his chest pointing at one of the stitches. When he pressed the trigger a green laser light erupted, hitting him. But instead of the heat explosion that the captain came to expect of laser weapons Boon didn't seem to be damaged. In fact he was... healing. The stitch was holding more tightly as the flesh below seemed to draw closer.

"Throne!"

"I would pay to see a commissar with one of this. Heresy! BLAM! What? Heresy! HERESY!"

The sergeant kept holding the good, making a shooting motion with every heresy. It might be close to an heretical thought, but it was a fun one and the captain couldn't help himself but to smile.

"Yes sergeant Boon, that would be worth seeing. From afar. But remember we are Scions of the Astra Militarum now."

"Sir, I thank the Inquisitor for taking care of me when the 39th Kadian was decimated. And the Schola training was hard as hell, and something to be proud of. But I'm a Karskin and five years at the damn Schola feeling like an old stranger wouldn't make grow a stick up my rear nor call myself Scion Tempestus. With all due respects captain, we are veterans of the Imperial Guard."

The captain raised his shoulders, he did feel like the sergeant himself. He was thankful to the Inquisitor, who had taken him after the massacre of the 99th Elysian. And even if the Schola had given all his men a common background and an equalizing ground the truth was that what kept them close was the Inquisitor herself.

"That is true sergeant, anything else you wanted?"

"Yes captain. Is it true that we have guests in the ship?"

His face was serious and didn't hold a smile any more. The identity of Agent Deladrier as the sniper that had pinned them at the medicae tent during the battle was something that the troops didn't enjoy to discover. Some of their friends had died then.

"It is true."

"Are the other rumours also true?"

The other rumours had spread like a genestealer cult among the ship personnel. The fact that they were 0115507M3 had taken root on the ship. There wasn't much point denying it. They had somehow, apparently travelled through the warp to the Age of Terra, but were really far away from Terra itself, in what appeared to be a region of the Eastern Fringe in which humanity had some colonies. The captain couldn't help but nod.

"Throne. Do you think we have rights of pay? I mean I heard of a vessel that lost itself in the immaterium at some point during the great crusade, and when they emerged each soldier had accumulated so much years of service that they could buy a moon each."

"I doubt it sergeant, we still need to survive here and now."

"I guess that's why we are playing it safe and not calling an Exterminatus on the planet."

"Affirmative sergeant, according to the scientist we've been lucky. The ones you and your men fought were Protoss, and they are much faster than our reports lead us to believe, apparently they some can turn into pure energy as they move. And their blades can pierce armour as if they were paper."

"They still can be stopped by a power weapon captain. Just get every trooper a power sword and we will be fine."

"You know as well as I do that we don't have enough weapons, even if we open the inquisitorial vault."

The sergeant smile was grim.

"Then loses will eventually equalize the numbers."

"I fear you are right sergeant. In that case we won't want to lose your power sword. Go back to the medicae and rest."

"Is that an order captain? Because I would rather go to my bunk, you know... to rest."

"Understood sergeant, give my regards to Captain Herdess. I'm sure she will appreciate some pause from piloting the unmovable ship."

The sergeant smirked and nodded.

"Will do captain, will do. Give my regards to the Inquisitor."

The captain awaited till the trooper was gone, and he raised a silent plea to the Emperor while he went to check on the Inquisitor.

**≡][≡**

This time the Kroot bodyguard had company. Agent Deladrier, who looked painfully uncomfortable by the xenos stood on the corridor. Her expression was one of torment, and her hands were clenched in fists. The captain didn't enjoy the Kroot company, that much was true, the creature made him more uneasy than any other alien he had seen short of the tyranids but the ghost seemed to be in palpable agony.

"Agent Deladrier. Are you okay?"

The woman's voice sounded composed if slightly rushed. Her low gothic wasn't as good as that of the scientist.

"Yes. The void is strong in this one."

The "void"? The captain was unfamiliar with the term, he would later ask the scientist about it, the man was knowledgeable in many aspects. It seemed though that the agent was okay, or didn't want to admit otherwise.

"Are you going to stay here for long?"

"I wish to speak with your leader. You claim not to be the leader. The big marine in armour claims not to be the leader. The leader is behind this door. I wait."

She was struggling with words, the captain doubted that she only wished to speak. She may not be good with words, but if brother – Captain Ran-Aldib, or any of the astartes was in the room she would need to be more than good with whatever weapon she had.

"Wait here."

With that the captain entered the Inquisitorial chamber. Not much had changed since his last visit, the walls continued crowded with books and sister Silvana continued by the side of the bed. Two things were new. The arm at the tank had moved, its claws had scratched the glass and its tentacles were affixing themselves to the base. And brother – apothecary Caleb was present.

"Captain?"

The voice was weak but it was all that the captain needed to understand that another thing had changed. He rushed to the bed and took the Inquisitor's remaining hand.

"I'm here Inquisitor. Are you fine? Are you whole?"

The woman laughed for a second, her voice had lost most of her shine but there was still some of the song of youth in its echo.

"I'm as fine and as whole as one can be missing their right arm. But my soul and mind are complete. That's what matters."

The captain nodded.

"Cutting your arm was the right call Inquisitor. I'm glad to see you safe."

The woman smiled at him.

"Would you do me two favours captain?"

"Of course."

"First of all, you will tell me everything that happened since I lost consciousness, then... when you retell this story don't forget to mention that I cut myself using the left hand."

**≡][≡**


	7. Chaos in theory

**Chaos in theory**

**≡][≡**

" _Tribe leader. My readings are worrying."_

The protoss elder looked at the screens of the observers. The little machines had swarmed around the two downed terran vessels, scouting and recollecting data. The battlefield between the two cruisers was a mass of intermixed debris. A litter of ruins that had been sullied with the sweat and blood of the terrans, before being covered with dead zerg. The ever present red dust of the planet swirled intermixing itself with the fallen giving it an eerily uniform appearance.

But this particular observer wasn't observing the aftermath of the fight. Due to a glitch, dumb luck or divine interdiction this particular machine had driven itself away from its brothers. It was just looking at the ground. As if something had earnestly captivated it's attention.

The picture wasn't as good as the tribe leader would have wished. Night was falling. A dust storm was coming. No the image wasn't good. But the tribe leader could see clearly.

Under the red dust the creep was advancing.

**=][=**

"You've done the right thing Captain."

The inquisitor voice was still a bit shaky, she had lost most of her wind during the conversation and was once again lying on her bed. Her face was pale, not only out of exhaustion but also due to fear. The pallor of her skin contrasted with the colours swirling in the tank. And that scared her.

"We are to protect the subjects of the Imperium, but If, throne, there is no Emperor we are to protect humanity. We shall purge this xenos."

The stormtrooper nodded relieved, it seemed that his head would be atop of his shoulders for a while, and he would be whole.

"Inquisitor if I may." Brother – Apothecary Caleb stood there with his arms crossed. "Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib has considered necessary that we keep ourselves in reserve. Not to alert those unused to astartes. And it is a wise decision. Wouldn't it be similarly wise to keep ourselves out of the whole galactic theatre, at least till we have recovered our strength?"

The woman in the bed raised its only hand and caressed its temples. The zealous idea, seemed so right in a moment and so alien in the next. She needed rest.

"You are right Brother – Apothecary. Our first priority will be to secure the Ollanius' Revenge. Secure as many STCs from our neighbours as possible, I'm sure Magos Dregmek is working on that. We are also to establish a secure information network, I assume that by this point everyone on the ship knows about the possible time travel. I would like everyone to be calmed down, the Emperor protects, and so does the Inquisition..."

The Inquisitor takes a long breath and lets the air go slowly, she then tries to stand against the wall. She stumbles a little but soon, with the help from Sister Silvana, she sits regally on the undone bed.

"I will need to do some talking, the Eldar in particularly worries me. If the date we have is correct... the fall of the Eldar hasn't happened, yet..."

The Inquisitor stands and starts moving on the room, not minding the other present she discards her nightgown and starts donning the long black coat of the commissariat. Inquisitor Halwinnit Kayleck, like many others of her rank, had been recruited from the Schola Progenium. But due to her upbringing she had been trained as a commissar before showing promise for the ranks of the alien hunters.

"So many things to do. I'll also need of the particular talents of our Rogue Trader. Diplomacy is his form of living, and he might be able to find redemption in dealing with humans instead of Xenos."

Her childhood hadn't been worse than many in the Imperium, in fact it had been better than many. She had been the Scion of the noble and most ancient house of Kayleck at Scintillia. Even when her parents were taken from her in a foul political ploy, when she was forced in the hive's anonymous darkness, when she had no more than the shoe's scraps for food, even then damnation didn't engulf her. For she had kept the weapon. A piece of archeotech, old as the crusade or even older, unremarkable except for an inscription in high gothic, that read "prepare the war". Once more she donned the las gun in the holster of her belt.

"I declare the Zerg Xenos Horrificus. Contact is not to be made or attempted. Brother – Apothecary I trust the Deathwatch in acquiring as much information as possible. Once we are back in Imperial space, and time, information is to be shared with the Deathwatch and the Ordo Xenos. Maintain me and Captain Ferros informed, everyone else will be in a need to know basis."

There was steel in her eyes. She had been a killer, a merciless murderer. Oh, they had called her duellist. But she didn't duel, she won. She fought for food, she fought for space, for breath, to keep living. She fought to die. Scintillian arbites new better than intervene in a duel, but eventually they had taken her in. That would have been her demise. The end of the house of Kayleck. It wasn't. She was recognized and sent to the Schola. Sent to the Schola Progenium. To serve the Emperor. To protect the Imperium.

"Captain Ferros seeing the mutation of what was once my arm I fear corruption. You are to accompany me at all times. If you judge me unfit inform me, if you deem necessary my execution two las bolts on my head. On the mean time, Sister Silvana, I trust you capable of acquiring as much knowledge from the infested arm as we can. Knowledge of it will only startle our men, and we need no fear, keep it private only the Astartes, Captain Ferros and I are to know. If the time comes I will step down, until then I will not accept questions to my right of command. Understood?"

Her talents had taken her far. From a fresh recruit to stubborn to respect the drill abbot who was constantly punished to a brutally cunning planner, capable of pulling off more than her share of tricks. Eventually she had been recruited into the ranks of the inquisition. The Ordo Xenos had welcomed her ability to always come on top.

"Captain, inform the Magos that I will meet him at the manufactorum, I dislike augments but I will need to impose fear in the hearts of our enemies and our allies if we are to thrive."

The Ordo Xenos was a strange bunch, most dealt with aliens and their technology regularly. Some abhorred it, some others deemed it necessary to use them and their tools against the enemies of the Imperium. She was an eccentric, many would call her a radical. But her methods were effective. That's what always mattered. That's what mattered the most now.

"You are dismissed. The Emperor protects."

When in deadly danger, When beset by doubt, Run in little circles, Wave your arms and shout. That is what the Inquisitor did when she was left alone.

**≡][≡**

If his doubts of alien influence, they couldn't be called suspicions at this point, were a strange occurrence the captain had to admit to himself that it wasn't the oddest event that day. The Manufactorum was... entropy.

Pieces, bits, scraps, slices, chunks, items, slabs, tokens, marks, parts, and portions swirled, flocked, whirled, swarmed, crowded, dusted the floor. Amidst the disorder two paragons of orderly creation stood face to face. Each moved with speed and haste. One with four mechadentrites and the other with two hands. The sting of incense was strong, punching the captain with almost as much strength as that of the scene.

It was as if contemplating two dancers, two discordant dancers each following their own tune. One chanting the litanies of the mechanicum, the other one musing a rhythmic song. The contrast was dire, as it was the obvious comparison, both moved in disparity yet somehow the dancers beat the right accord at the proper time.

"For the Emperor's shining buttocks. What is this madness?"

Both men dropped their toys like repented children. It was only then that the captain saw the orange shadow running among the debris collecting random tidbits. The jokaero had salvaged some of the constructed fantasies that had piled under the shreds.

"Scientist Wei-Hsai is a heretic who doubts the Omnissiah's will and the Machine Spirits."

"Magos Dregmek is a bun tyen-shung duh ee-dway-ro who disregards the scientific method."

Throne what were those men doing? They had certainly created more than they share of weapons. The Captain moved towards them, standing between the crazy and the mad.

"Stop this folly you two!"

As he stood there the orange ape climbed up his leg, to stand in its head. It hold a weapon in each paw, a las gun and pistol that he wasn't able to recognize. Soon the creature extended its arms, tending each piece to one of the constructors. A mechadentrite and a hand took it fast enough.

"Mmh... the craftmanship is good, if simple and undecorated. The spirits align well enough."

"This... Hou Zi? How can he have created a "scythe" pistol by asking the damn thing how it feels?"

The captain tried to catch the Jokaero but the ape soon scurried away. Now he stood between two fools. Two armed fools.

"I don't know what's going on. But could you seriously drop those weapons? And tidy this place up. The Inquisitor is awake and will require her arm."

A static whirl from the Magos alerted four servitors who started collecting the pieces with mechanical efficiency.

"The Manufactorum will be ready. Anyone not of the Mechanicum evict the room."

While the storm trooper and the ghost made swift pace out the scientist stood back.

"Can I look at the prosthesis?" It took him a moment to add. "Please."

The captain expected the request to be denied, but it seemed that the Magos was more crazy than usual.

"Your request shall be allowed. Although you will need to vacate the room for the ritual."

**≡][≡**

"I've had visual on their leader."

The radio message was short. Clicking with a small amount of static. The magnetic currents of the planet were being altered by the coming nocturnal storm. The Scavenger didn't care much.

"Confirm."

"I've had visual. The leader is a woman. Attempts to manipulate her mind unsuccessful, there is a an unidentified alien with a strong void connections in the vicinity. Somehow cancels mental effect."

The scavenger produced a short curse. Everything was going downhill. At first the defences of this other Terran capable of taking a battlecruiser out of the sky, then the Zerg attacking them en mass, and the traitorous commander of the War Pigs arriving to an understanding with this damn strangers.

"What about the Doctor Wei-Hsai?"

"Partial success in acquiring the weapons technology. Currently dealing with the ship's priests."

Priests? The scientist hadn't ever been a pious man. The only god for him was science and creation. The only demon in his live had been Mengsk, the emperor who had expelled him from the project Blackstone. But now that the old man was dead he didn't have much to hate.

"Understood. Continue waiting and observing."

"Permission to establish contact with the troops."

"Granted."

There was a storm coming. And the scavenger would reap the spoils.

When it was sure that nobody else was listening or observing the small rodent automata ran towards the infocyte. The Vanus know.

**≡][≡**

The observers had soon taken flight around the terran stronghold. Their slow expansion had confirmed the Tribe's leader biggest fears.

A perfect circle of creep advanced steadily towards the ship. The protoss scouts moved, swarmed and observed. They travelled to what had at some point been their digging site. It wouldn't take long for the creep to surround it. And it wouldn't take much longer for it to break through the protection of the pylons. All their research lost. Worse than lost. In the claws of the Zerg. Intervention was necessary.

**≡][≡**

There was little pain as the metalled hooks interred themselves in the flesh affixing the new metal arm to the bone. When the nervous connection was established the inquisitor felt a warm sensation of wholeness. Whatever had she expected from the prosthetic augment was not this.

"Thank you Magos. This is by far the best augment I've ever seen."

There was a purr of satisfied static coming from the robed mechanicus.

"I'm glad to hear Inquisitor. I must admit I've had help. The Jokaero." A mechadentrite caressed the orange furred animal. "Helped with most of the nervous connections. And... Adept Wei-Hsai suggestted the use of new material."

The Inquisitor raised a worried brow.

"Adept Wei-Hsai? Are you sure it's safe Magos?"

The mechadentrites reached for a weapon. And passed it to the Inquisitor. It was a good sturdy laser pistol. It appeared to be hand made, but the marks of artifice were almost imperceptible. A design to simple for the master that would have crafted it.

"Adept Wei-Hsai did this Inquisitor. We could use a man of his expertise. At least he doesn't advocate the use of abominable intelligence, and he will come to the midst of the Omnissiah soon enough."

There was a slight concern in the eyes of the Inquisitor. But she had to admit that the knowledge of the scientist would be a great asset. A resource that at least the Mechanicum seemed willed to exploit. The Inquisition couldn't fall back.

"I make you responsible for any inconvenience down the line. Now... what can my arm do?"

**≡][≡**

Mingling with minds was complicated. One had to make the idea appear natural. Feel natural. It needed to sprung from the deepest thought. Take root and grow.

It was complicated with necessary. Using the momentary distraction the weaving started.

**≡][≡**

The Eldar was a creature of myth. Someone who would feel more in place in the stories from ancient Terra than surrounded by mere humans. Most Eldar with whom she had treated in the past had done a good job in reminding her. Mon-keigh. Human wasn't an accurate description, at it's core the term implied inferiority, or simply non Eldar.

Now the Mon-keigh was holding the reins in her hands. But the power could shift at any point if the Eldar knew the implications of their situation.

" _Your help during the battle was greatly appreciated."_

She had treated with many Eldar before. She had even picked some of the language, and customs.

"I understand your language well enough Mon-keigh. No need to play around."

" _I like to practice my languages from time to time. And Eldar is much more difficult to maintain fresh than Orkish"_

The Eldar craked a shadow of a smile.

"What do you want?"

" _I'm sure you've heard the rumors. About the date."_

A nod was all the Eldar deemed necessary to respond.

" _Do you think they are true?"_

"This species, my brethren have no songs of them. And you mon-keigh, you didn't expand this far at this time. For all we know we might be in a different universe."

So the Eldar didn't know about the Protoss or the Zerg either? That was only mildly reassuring.

" _True."_

"Still the warp is surprisingly calm, and the Eldar empire, if it exists in this verse should be easy to find. Provided we have a suitable ship. You possess one."

" _Repairs are necessary. It will take time."_

"True."

The Eldar had been a formidable opponent for the Imperium while being a race in decline. A splintered force that was still capable to hold it's ground. If the fall... could be prevented would that condemn humanity or save it?

" _If you had a spacecraft, reached the Eldars, and told them of what is to come..."_

The Eldar seemed to ponder the answer for a long time. So long that the Inquisitor assumed that he was not going to respond. But as she stood to leave the Eldar broke the silence.

"I assume you are not familiar with  _Tranglam_. Time flows like a river Mon-keigh. But only the most skilled seers can determine how an approximate present can affect an approximate future. If we are indeed in the past and I tell my people, that will change the flow of time." the Eldar looked at the Inquisitor "Have you told the other mon-keighs that you come from the future?"

The Inquisitor herself hadn't, but she had been unconscious most of the time. Men talk though, and that was a really likely event.

" _That might be a problem..."_

"A problem is an understatement Mon-keigh. You are blind and deaf, yet you stumble around changing things. Even if they are small their impact could be terrible. Because you do not understand."

Her head hurt. That idea... was strange. How could the alien be right? She knew little of the secretive Ordo Minoris. But she pledged to raise a pray to the Emperor every day till they were back in their time or a qualified member of the Ordo Chronos appeared to save the day.

Still the Eldar hadn't answered the question.

" _Humans are stupid, got it. I ask you again. If you had a vessel and could contact the Eldar what would you do?"_

"I don't have a vessel."

" _Humour me."_

"I would probably try to reach for them, but that's why I'm not a seer."

"Understood. That leaves me in a terrible position."

"I know, Inquisitor."

She went towards the door, almost leaving the Eldar as a prisoner awaiting execution. But something, some idea, clicked in her mind at the time.

"Why did you serve under a human Rogue Trader?"

"I used to be a Corsair Mon-keigh. The Rogue Trader happened to offer a good deal at the moment."

"What did he offer?"

"A ship."

"I have a ship."

"I know."

**≡][≡**

Commander Sertes had fought against the Zerg in many occasions. He knew how to recognize the symbols of an attack, and was sure of what he saw. Creep.

It had almost been serendipitous somehow he had had the idea of looking at the sand. Sand that was ever present in Mar Sara. Wherever the idea had come from it was obvious now. They would be soon under attack. From all flanks

That was bad.

"Sir, there is creep growing towards our position from every direction."

The Scavenger didn't look well, he had lost a lot of blood when the kaiser blade had ripped his stomach. Still he was a tough bastard more than capable to cheat death once again.

"Prepare a defence perimeter."

"Should we inform the Imperials sir?"

The Scavenger would put anything between himself and the enemy whenever possible. He nodded.

**≡][≡**

"Captain Ferros." The agent looked at him with a stern expression. He would have sworn that she enjoyed spooking him appearing out of nowhere. But it was hard to tell. The woman tossed a small device, some sort of vox communicatior to the storm trooper. "Commander Sertes wishes to inform about an imminent Zerg attack."

"This is Captain Ferros. What's going on?"

The sound came surprisingly clear and at an instantaneous speed.

"Hello, Captain. Commander Sertes here. We have detected creep formations under the sand drawing closer to our position. The Zerg rush should be imminent."

Throne!

"My contractor wishes to know if the Protoss facilities you attacked had pylons." It didn't take the commander long to describe what a pylon was.

"Yes there were some structures like that. Why?"

"Khaydarin crystals can be used to damp the control of the swarm if we were to use them in our defences it would help slow the creep and disorient their creatures."

"I see. It might be worth attempting..."

If those crystals could damp the swarm control the Inquisitor would be safer with them.

**≡][≡**


	8. Ride of the Valkyries

**≡][≡**

"Inquisitor."

"Confessor."

The exchange was cold. There had never been a close relationship between both of them. Confessor Kirin had joined the Inquisitorial retinue hoping to bring the holy promethium fire to the heretic, and even if the Inquisitor wasn't above burning those who schismed it usually was its plan B. The Inquisitor stood there, considering if she had been willfully avoiding the man. It didn't take long to realize that she had indeed. He was elderly, with an atemporal edge. Somehow he seemed to subsist on faith and zeal more than food.

"I see that you have consorted with this heretics Inquisitor, you even done one of their augmentics. You should be condemned for high treason."

"Confessor, we are in uncharted territory, we need all the help we can get, and this heretics are better than the alternative, you've seen the xenos."

"We are not in uncharted territory. We are in Graia, our position is evident if you were to look outside you will see the clear marks."

The inquisitor sighed, looking outside she did indeed see the stars that would indicate that this was unequivocally Graia. The cogitators of the Ollanius had indicated with a certainty of 99,99% that this was indeed the planet in which the Ultramarine's Captain Titus had pushed back a brewing WAAAGH almost by himself. But there were none of the scars that the mechanicus leaves at a planet, nor even faint ones. If this planet was in fact Graia they were either at a different universe or at a different age. Neither of those answers would please the Confessor. Thus the sigh.

"Anyway Confessor, I've to deal with an upcoming xenos horrificus army and I need every man I can get."

The grin in the man's face lead the woman to a chagrin. There was something at play that she was missing. And she was going to find out rather soon.

"In that case use every man you have. Rogue Trader Marcius Velonius has been rotting away in a cell."

There were many things in which the Confessor and the Inquisitor disagreed, many. One of the few in which they didn't was that the Rogue Trader had over reached his heretic quota. It seemed that she had undervalued the Confessor's vile for her.

"He is one of the faithless you preach against, a xenos consorter, remember?"

"Faith can weaver and flicker. It is like a candle, sometimes it burns smaller, but if you approach the fire of the Emperor to it, it will rekindle or melt. Trust me Inquisitor, the man is loyal to the Imperial Creed. And if I can convert him, I can convert them."

That was it. That was this charade's reason. It was simple, as the knife's edge. A keen question. Should he let the Confessor convert the masses outside? Not doing so would be all the fire the man needed to burn her. It would be like shooting herself. But the other option wasn't much better, the Confessor was good at his job, and he would indeed convert the unfaithful to the Imperial Creed. But certainly several verses would be added to the litanies, the hate chorus pointed at her. Still she needed an army if she was going to go back to Imperial Space. And even if the Confessor didn't realize Terran technology could be a great advantage in the war against Chaos and Xenos. The Ollanius Revenge needed to go back. She hoped that even if she had to burn for it the Astartes would be able to take the torch to destiny.

"Permission granted Confessor. Get me an army."

"I will need some men."

"I can't spare any, you know that rather well."

"At least get me the one in the gallows."

Putting all the snakes in the same basket was probably a bad idea, at least not all the eggs were there.

"Fine."

**≡][≡**

The night was full of colors and smells. The path of the broken pack did it's best to uniform everything but failed. It was too thin, too new, at most points. The broken pack didn't like that, but he did enjoy it. The path, the creep was soft. It made them soft. Soft and vulnerable.

He wasn't soft. He was Goyathlay and he was a true Zerg. When the Queen of Blades had slain the Ancient One many packs were fragmented. Pack leaders jumping at the chance to defy the swarm regent. Goyathlay pack leader had been one of many, one of many that had its essence taken. That did matter little, for the truth is that he hadn't liked his pack leader. It was big and strong, qualities that Goyathlay didn't consider valuable. Cunning and wits accomplished more than claws and fangs. And he lived were many others had perished.

Goyathlay sniffed the night of the air and looked behind his shoulder at the pack that followed him. They were all small, swift, silent, deadly and they followed his orders. All of them. Even the swarm zergling that accompanied them. The broken one didn't seem to comfortable running on creep so thin but he kept moving forward. That made him proud.

The pack leader approached the member of the broken pack. Many would believe it week. And it was. It wasn't a true Zerg after all. But the swarm had many tricks that the primals lacked and Goyathlay licked tricks. The pack leader looked into the eyes of the zergling and for an instant felt as if he was seeing the eyes of the brood mother.

_"We will soon be in position. The attack will be ready."_

The zergling clicked, the swarm readied.

**≡][≡**

The SceeVees were something out of the ordinary, the magos had never seen something like them. The power armor of the terrans, couldn't hold a candle to the imperial, it was true that it was rapidly assembled and that all the troops carried it, but it wasn't  _better_. The impaler suffered equally against the bolter, it was hard to point which was superior. Even the nicknamed flashlights, the las guns were powerful weapons in their own right.

But the SceeVees... those were beyond the wildest dreams of Magos Dregmek. One of those could get him ascend highly in the orders of the martian priesthood. There wasn't one. There were dozens. Blessed Omnissiah!

Magos Dregmek observed with reverence the veteran pilots of the T-280 space construction vehicles. If he had still been able to salivate he would have done so. Many others had discredited the SCV, considering them old and laughable but they laked the cogitators or the mind of one high ranking member of the adeptus mechanicus.

The vehicles had been swiftly extracting mineral, resintetizing it and constructing a superb line of defense. The terran structures were soon overtaking the imperial, the servitors not fast enough to even compete with the SCVs. Magos Dregmek had only seen something capable of creating so fast once, a long time ago in the desserts of his childhood. And it had been a race to construct a God.

Incapable of helping himself Magos Explorator Gobadiah Dregmek red priest of the Blessed Omnissiah throw his head back and let out a loud repetitive sound in lingua-technis, a noise crackling with static and scrap code. No organic mind could really translate the giberish but to Doctor Wei-Hsai, who had heard more than a maniacal laughter in his time, the language was no barrier for the intent.

The Terran man who had dyed his old trusty lab coat in a rusty shade of crimson smiled.

**≡][≡**

The rhino was packed, it had been a long time since all the seats were taken. Other than the space marines some of the terrans had joined the mission.

There were five of them. They looked resolute. Strong men. Willfull men. Proved men. Each carried a thick power armor, but each of theirs had been shapped to fit their specific purpose and specialization. They weren't space marines. They were mortal. Brother Baldassare observed them keenly.

The Lamenter had defended many imperial settlements with his chapter in years past. He had always admired the imperial guard's bravery. He had seen them charge against impossible odds because their faith in the Emperor demanded, and they didn't falter. Once again he admired mortal men.

They didn't know the Emperor's deeds. Their galaxy wasn't set ablaze. But they fought, they choose to fight. War wasn't their creed but their trade. Brother – Captain Ran – Aldib voice's tore him out of his meditative state.

"We are close to the target coordinates. My auspex is showing numerous readings."

"Your damn scanner must be pretty strong if it can pin point buried zerg."

"Brother – Captain's Auspex is from the dark age of technology, they say that the Omega Vaults opened when the Chapter Master of the Mentors opened and he retrieved such fine piece of technology..."

"I don't think all the story is necessary Agrippa."

The young Reaver seemed to be the one more eager to collaborate with the Terran Marines, as he saw it they were good at killing Xenos, he was good at killing Xenos, he could be better by learning from them. Mihai shared his enthusiasm, in fact the Blood Raven had already taken some of the Terran guns claiming that if they were in the past those were relics that now pertained to his chapter. Accipiter seemed content to remain silent, avoiding pronouncing himself in either direction, and along the captain was perhaps the most distant. Baldassare had to admit that both him and the apothecary were interested in what those men could do.

"What's a chapter?"

The Terran's voice was heavily accented, their low Gothic was still not good, but more than enough to communicate. Agrippa needed little feet to start a conversation, but this time the Captain interrupted him, before the conversation sparked. For a moment Baldassare felt silence. It didn't last.

"A Chapter is a self-contained Space Marine army usually made up of a thousand or so Space Marines, as well as a large number of administrative and functionary personnel. Each Chapter is autonomous and constitutes a complete army, with its own leadership, support and administrative staff, reliant only on its own Chapter members. Different Chapters have different traditions, specialties, beliefs and practices."

The answer from Brother-Captain Ran – Aldib didn't surprise Baldassare, after all he was a Mentor and his role was to teach and educate those who fought at his side. But it was indeed more precise than anything that the Imperial Reaver could have said.

"That sounds like one of our companies. We are all independents here. Are you all from the same chapter?"

The Astartes Captain shook his head, it was complicated to tell if he was negating the fact that a mercenary company was like a Space Marine Chapter or that they all hailed from the same heritage.

"No. We are members of the Deathwatch but we come from different chapters." Touching his shoulder pad showing a stylized owl face. "Still I'm a Captain of the Mentors Legion, a Tutor if you will. Agrippa hails from the Imperial Reavers, a Ultramarines' successor Chapter. Baldassare is a Lamenter, successor of the Blood Angels. Mihai is a member of the Blood Ravens, and like my chapter it is unknown who our gene father is. Caleb is our apothecary, from the Guardians of the Covenant, one of the Dark Angels succeeding chapters. Finally Accipiter is one of the Raptors a successor Chapter of the Raven Guard."

As he mentioned each of the different brothers they knocked their shoulders showing the emblems of their respective chapters.

"I see... We all come from different groups too. I am Commander Sertes, of the War Pigs. The rest here are Marcus of the Devil Dogs, Garrus of Hammer Securities, Lucia a Skibi's Angel, and our resident Death Head Jim. What is the Deathwatch?"

"The Deathwatch is an elite organization, we are the first and last line of defence. We hold the imperium from the enemy without. We are hand picked from the Chapters according to our specializations. We fight Xenos. We kill the Alien wherever we find it. We done the black."

"I wear it for the thousands who have died believing that the Lord was on their side. I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died believing that we all were on their side..."

The singing voice of the War Pig was interrupted by the metallic ping of the auspex and radars. They had arrived. The time of conversation had ended. It was time.

**≡][≡**

"Be careful, if the Confessor tries something detrimental be sure to eliminate him in a quite manner."

The knock in the door interrupted the conversation between the Inquisitor and the Assassinorum officer.

"Come in."

The view was something that Halwinnit Kayleck had never expected to see. A member of the mechanicus in a color other than red. Dregmek was wearing a white lab coat, similar to the one that the Doctor had worn before, which was now tinted red.

"Inquisitor. As you may know, we believe that we are in Graia. Or a past version of Graia. It is a Forge World. In fact there were, or there are going to be Titan Legions manufacturers here..."

"What's the point Magos?"

"Adamantium. Titans need adamantium to be built."

"But we don't have adamantium, nor titan factories... we cannot build..."

"We HAVE adamantium." This time it was the doctor who sounded excited. "If Mar Sara is Graia there is adamantium under the crust, all of it. It is just that we haven't been to mine it because we didn't know what we were looking for and we didn't have the tools nor the technology."

"If we get adamantium, we will be able to repair the vessel. Wouldn't it take too long?"

"No Inquisitor, Terran technology is incredible fast when it comes to building things, you should see their dreadnoughts they are the Omnissiah's will made manifest. And we have the knowledge, we can extract the adamantium and we use the core of the Ollanius we should be able to melt it, that would give us material for reparations, we might even be able to make improvements."

Her new mechanical hand clenched into a fist and released it. Terran techonology wasn't necessarily better than the Imperial but there were small divergences that could be used. The yamato cannon was strong for its size and their shield technology was comparable to Tau tech. Not to speak of their maneuverability and their warp jumpers. Yes, there were things to be taken from the exchange.

"Understood Magos, there is hope to set foot out of the planet again. The Emperor provides."

"The Omnissiah's will."

**≡][≡**

They had strapped themselves. The interior of the rhino was thick with anticipation. One side of it was intoning the litany of devotion, while the other was listening to heavy metal. When they were ready brother Agrippa stood and moved to the control panel of the vehicle, stapled himself to the control seat and pressed the speaker control.

"Here Agrippa, we are ready."

The answer came loud and clear, without a burst of static.

"Santa Claus ready to drop the present. In five..."

The dropship was ready moving quickly towards the objective. As it did the ground erupted and the swarm started moving. One heart beat the tall khaydarin crystal was clearly visible the next it was obscured by an ultralisk.

It was time to steal the christmas back.

During an instant the rhino flied solo, then the gravity reclaimed its due. The metal box fell. As it did the roof opened those that had jump packs on them started flying, swatting away the mutalisks that chased the rhino. Baldassare threw a quick slash with his glaive encarmine as two mutalisks attempted to squeeze inside the tank.

"I'm a leaf on the wind!"

Brother Agrippa started the rhino, its roar was so loud that it eclipsed the noise of the Zerg below. As it fell the tracks started to swirl. The ultralisk raised its kaiser blades, accepting the challenge. For a moment the scythes pressed against the sides of the tank, scratching, tearing the adamantine metal. The marines opened the side doors and fired a round of over heated plasma at the beast.

The creature held the full weight of the tank, holding it between its claws like a gigantic crab. Finally the combined firepower and the tracks chewing its flesh like two oversized chainsaws proved too much. Soon the beast was swatted.

"Dropping the Grinch"

As the marines cleared a central area the dropship started releasing its second cargo, several servitors fell from the air, moving with fast pace towards the pylons left behind by the Protoss. The strike was fast and effective, soon the dropship was charged with crystals that resonated with energy.

**≡][≡**

The Protoss observed silently the Terran stunt. Had they had jaws they would have dropped them. He attack had been fast, almost unexpected. Unfortunately the Zerg looses were like a drop in the ocean. The sensors capted movement not far from where the Terrans had landed.

" _Prepare a group of zealots, we are going to send a flash attack to cut some of the Zerg reinforcements, we want the Terrans to loose, but only barely, and if they have pylons in their compound a potential attack will be much easier to carry out._ "

" _It will be done tribe leader._ "

" _Talrisis... be careful, don't let the Terran spot you. Let them win, it will be good for moral._ "

**≡][≡**

The drop ship flew away, it was loaded with crystals. The rhino made fast pace behind it, the marines still shooting at any Zerg that got to close. The servitors were left behind. Each of them had a bolter strapped and they emptied their magazines at the Zerg. They caused noise, fire, smoke, it was a distraction a lure. When the creatures got to them the servitors initiated a self destruct process. The damage was great, thinning the chasing Zerg and distracting them.

"That was crazy. You dropped a tank on top of an Ultralisk. Can we do it again? Wasn't there a better place to land?"

The Death Head sounded totally excited.

"The Codex Astartes says: the Space Marine shall master all weapons, and all battlefields."

"Tactical genius."

The grin in the Imperial Reaver face disappeared.

"We have a problem brothers, the bug claws damaged the rhino, we might be stopped at any minute."

"How long do we have?"

"I don't know. It shouldn't be working but the machine spirit is pushing it. We are not going to make it."

As the words were leaving Agrippa's mouth the rhino exhaled. The machine that had served the deathwatch for over two centuries had made a final rush. The driver intoned a litany of thanks and remembrance for the old friend. Soon they heard the clicking sounds of the Zerg in the distance. Death was coming. But the Space Marines know no fear, and the Terrans weren't going to stay back.

**≡][≡**


	9. Traitor

**≡][≡**

Infocyte Sohd Na couldn't help but remind itself that breath was one of the necessary functions of its body. Once again he drew air into his lungs, wondering when had been the last time he had done so. Judging by the rushed beating of his heart he would estimate it short. Still it felt a long time ago. He blinked, once, lubricating and humidifying his dry eyes. Loosing detail was kin to heresy.

Sohd Na had participated in many battles. His intervention had been crucial in many fights. Had it been not for him the compliance of the Brujul planet would be compromised. His victories were beyond doubt or retort. At least for those that new of them, lucky few.

An assassin works in the shadows and the Vanus temple specializes in the darkest and farthest shadow. He took pride in his work. Pride in not needing to fire a weapon, in fighting with numbers and data. But this was no such time.

He drew breath again, realizing almost too late that he had exhaled. His eyes were affixed in the screen. One of his psyber-mice had scooped itself into the dropship that had spearheaded the assault and later into the ill fated rhino. Now its transmitters were engulfing all his attention. Had it been another moment he would have doubted the wisdom of concentrating so strongly on such a task. Or maybe he would have taken pride in the range and accuracy of his battle weapons.

Now the only thing he could do is observe the battle entranced.

Brother Agrippa had lost its bolter, one of the unfathomable xenos had struck it with a vile scythe that had bisected it like a crude copy. The space marine bled profusely, nabs of its armor had been dented and mauled away. The infocyte observed, his breath once again forgotten, as the Imperial Reaver grabbed a discarded impaler breaking the trigger guard and proceeding to make it spit destruction. Quick spears impaled the upcoming xenos, succeeding only in thinning the horde and making the ever growing layer of corpses bigger. Holding the terran weapon in one hand and what appeared to be a sharp thorn xeno appendix in the other the space marine pushed the creatures back.

As he advanced the Zerg moved to meet him. The creatures didn't move as anything alive the infocyte had seen before. If he had to describe them he would say that the tidal seas of his homeworld would be a fair approximation. One of course needed to imagine the waves with vicious claws and gnashing jaws. But it was the best approximation he could make.

And the gene heritor of Guilliman was drowning.

With broken breath, he had somehow once again forgotten to do so, the Vanus raised a plea to the Emperor. Prayer that was answered, like many before, with fire. The devil dog had heated the fight, bathing in fuel the zerg mass that threatened with overthrowing the fallen astartes.

For an eternity all Sohd Na could see was a white flash, the psyber-mouse blinded by the fierce explosion. With a hasty hand the infocyte readjusted the sensors. Soon he was able to see again. He exhaled a long breath, that he didn't know he was holding, as the marauder took the space marine body from the charred zerg mass.

He manoeuvred the mouse trying to follow the action. He saw the marauder dropping the body by the Terran Medic and the Apothecary, who rushed to treat it. They tore open the helmet, and the man gasped as the charred creature inside of it draw a rushed breath. The infocyte reminded himself to do the same. The space marine was patched up, pushed back to its feet and thrown back into battle.

He reminded himself to go back to his battle.

**≡][≡**

His throat had been dry for too long. The amasec was good. Maybe the best he had ever had, even if he was not going to admit as much. With a controlled gulp he drank the burning liquid. He reached for the bottle, pouring himself another glass of such fine thing. The golden ripples on the glass entranced him, somehow they reminded him of years past when he was still on board his ship, when the biggest concern had been pouring himself another one. But time doesn't go back. Well, it apparently did. It was complicated. He wasn't happy about it. Even if he could savour this so claimed Terran whisky, he was still a prisoner.

Mayhap he was no more in a small cell, this cell was brighter, and had good food, alcohol, even cigars. But it was a jail none the less. Till he could say goodbye to the gravitational pull he would feel enclaustred. Till that happened he would enjoy his time. Rogue Trader Marcius Velonius filled again his glass. Then he looked at the board, at with ease made a move. This game, chess, wasn't so different from the reguicide he used to play. He had enjoyed the game, two good players could learn more from each other with it than with words. And the gaoler was good.

"Difficult move Velonious, you are goading my queen with the horse. But keeping the tower in the watch. And you said that you didn't know how to play this game..."

He had started to take a liking to his new gaoler. He might indeed be a pirate but he was a civilized one. And the Rogue Trader had to admit to himself that their lines of work hadn't been to much different. Caught in his thoughts he almost lost how the Terran moved the small figurine. The new position was troubling. He hadn't expected that move. Mentally he moved the tiles, in his mind he could see them dancing across the board. Each move had a counter and with it he was one step closer to defeat. In fact he soon realized that he would loose in five turns.

"It seems to me that this is going to be your game, pirate."

"The word is corsair, you smuggler. And even if it is, sometimes it is important how we lose Velonious. But I will take my prize now, if you want."

With a sigh Marcius Velonious laid down his Emperor, or the king as the Terran insisted to call it. Then gave a short nod.

"Excellent." Schezar pressed a button, and inter com. "Captain, join us at my quarters immediately. Bring the charts console."

Minutes later a young man appeared. He was fully dressed in a terran confederacy navy uniform, wearing badges that indicated his rank to be that of a colonel. The uniform was old, older than him, and judging by what appeared to be a patched bullet hole by one of the badges had seen use in combat. How a navy officer had seen such close combat was a wild man guess. The man himself, looked tough, with a well trimmed and kept black beard covering most of his lower face, his eyes were of powerful green, one shone with the electrical glee of an augmentic.

"Rogue Trader Marcius Velonious, this is Captain Jackson, the most recently "elected" Captain of the Duke's Revenge. He is rather capable I assure you, an has at his disposal all the charts that we were able to gather from the adjutant. I will like a full list of planetary resources and hazards. Anything you can give me will be valued. Now if you will excuse me I shall see how the Imperial Truth is preached. Have a nice day."

The Scavenger left the room, not paying attention to the two men there, nor to the little mouse that tailed him.

**≡][≡**

The ground erupted under they feet. Brother – Apothecary Caleb jumped, doing a barrel roll and stood between the fallen Death Head and the upcoming hydralisks. His patient was a tough mother fucker, he was barely alive. The Apothecary had to admit that he was impressed by the Terran toughness, not as hard as an Astartes, but still...

Still he needed to address the matter at hand. They were threatening to swarm on the fallen once he moved. But geneson of the Lion does not flinch. The guardian of the covenant pressed his feet, raised his bolter hand and aimed. The movements were fast, graceful, inhuman. His finger caressed the trigger, and a single bolt round flew, crossing the distance between him and the first hydralisk head in a heartbeat. As he lined the second shot, the first one exploded in a shower of alien gore. This sprung the zerg to action, swarming the air with spines.

The spines fell on the power armor, like rain tapping on glass. Most glanced, tearing and nicking the deathwach black. Some found little structural gaps, and penetrated tearing augmented flesh. His enhanced blood stream distributed drugs and sedatives, healing or receding the pain enough for him to keep shooting. A needle tore through his knee guard, and he felt his power armour struggle to keep him standing. Another chew past the eye glass forcing him to compensate his aim. The space marine lined one shot after another, he could turn into a pincushion for all he cared. Moving would mean the death head's death, a stain in his honor as apothecary and the lion's pride. Soon the question became, are there more hydralisk than bolter rounds?

Had he been against the full might of the swarm, the answer would have been a simple and clear no. Fortunately for him, the Emperor provides, and there were exactly as many bolter rounds as needed. Knowing that his pride was safe, and surrounded by dead hydralisks, the Apothecary allowed himself to fall.

He didn't fall long. A caring arm hold the astartes and helped him to the ground. The old terran's believed in angels, and even if the Imperial Truth discredited such blasphemies the space marine was thankful. The terran medic looked over him with a troubled expression. Her helm was open and his internal computer was examining the wounds. There was only a possible conclusion. If he was a human, he should be beyond dead.

"I'm afraid none of my drugs would affect you and I can't access your suits fibre bundles." She knelt besides him, pulling out the spine in his eye with brute strength and ripping the helmet open. She was reassured, and equally surprised, when he blinked in response as if showing that he was not only alive but conscious.

"In the Nautherium, green serum. Inject directly into the second heart through the black carapace."

What's a black carapace? She raised her shield for cover and reached for her tools. She would need all her skill and wit.

"All I can tell you about this next procedure is that it will be... excruciating!"

She allowed a smile to crack her lips, and was glad to see that the space marine responded in kin. Soon she followed his guidance operating with much care.

**≡][≡**

"I'm thankful for your report Doctor. I started to become troubled by your... silence. Ensure that the human soldiers are given command, the communications of those skitarii as you call them are impossible to crack. Do not argue with me, I do hold the leash of the ghost and I can turn it against you as easily as I can get it to put a bullet through the inquisitor. Do not doubt me."

With a flicker of the wrist the Scavenger put an end to the communications and entered the congregation. Ages of poker and living at the wrong side of the law helped him keep his faith straight. Because what he saw surprised him completely. Standing at the pulpit, right under the holy cross stood the Confessor. His face was red with zeal, and his eyes kindled with passion. The damn room was packed, full. The priest that used to tend the ship had never gathered such an audience. In fact the Scavenger had been convinced that there was nothing pious in the priest. He had to redress his experiences, for the man was sitting in the first row with a face overtaken with faith.

"He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification. That which was will be. That which died will live. That which fell will rise up. This, I say to you, is the nature of things, if you but once believe."

The clamor and zeal in the room soon pushed the scavenger out. He had let the confessor into his midst, believing his men to be whoring gamblers beyond faith. The prize of the Rogue Trader was much higher than the cost that he had anticipated. Somehow, he had undervalued imperial fervor. He hadn't expected the man to preach, and much less to be able to convert any of his men.

He needed to act. With haste he moved across the higher levels of the vessel till he arrived to the control room. There the adjutant greet him. It was old. Older than the ship and the confederacy. A model so old that it had still organic parts inside. Still the machine looked barely affected by the pass of the years looking like a metallic child. The thing's designer had taken upon himself, to confer the machine a vaguely human guise, locking it's features in a dumbfounded smile.

"Adjutant. Initiate telecomunication protocol with Captain Sertes. Feed image."

For a moment the screen behind the adjutant blinked. Soon it adjusted itself showing a clear image. In it Captain Sertes and Brother – Captain Ran – Aldib stood side by side against the Zerg horde. The Scavenger wasn't happy. He pretty much expected all of them to be deader by now. He had sent the troublemakers among his mercenaries and the so called space marines in a fool errand's fetch quest. An order that he had gauged to be a summary execution. A clean, as clean as the Zerg could do, death. One way to eliminate trouble.

But this particular trouble didn't want to die. No. It refused to die. Well. Too bad. It would die. It would die soon enough if the four ultras approaching the crash were any indication. The best they could do now is die on camera.

"Adjutant. Make telecomunication access hackable. Ensure it appears to be an error."

With glee the scavenger looked at the screen as the mutalisk swarm pushed the war pig and the astartes to the ground. Soon they would all be dead. And his troops would see how fallible are those so called space marines. He would have the space charts. He would manoeuvre the rogue trader and the ghost into assassinating that damn Inquisitor, and then get the Doctor to sabotage the Imperial ship. And fly away. As far away as he could. He would be rich for two lifetimes, or perhaps even three. He knew that the UED would be interested in any technology he could scavenge, oh, yes, they would pay.

Lost in his thoughts he didn't see how a little mouse, that had been tailing him across the ship moved to the adjutant. With a metallic chirp it took a bite at one of the exposed cables.

**≡][≡**

The Inquisitor looked at the battlefield. Most of her troops had taken positions. Those who had served at the Navy taking the batteries on the walls with familiar ease. They had run a test fire with live ammo and crated the surrounding perimeter. For now there were no indications of Zerg, but the creep extended almost to the base of the wall. The game was turning itself into a game of chicken.

A game that she didn't like to play. Waiting didn't suit her. Specially waiting in the medicae tent. The hospitalier analysis of the hand kept going, but the preliminary results were fearsome. She had attacked it with any viral or bacteorological component that was at hand, trying to combat the infection to no avail. What appeared to be even worse, the hand had grown slightly after each test, as if it was adapting and becoming stronger. They had attempted to cut one of the tendrils, but in doing so it had become violent, and the whole appendage was now in quarantine. Invasive tests were postponed.

Hayleck turned towards the other person in the room, an unconventional guests. The navigator lied bound and sedated into unconsciousness. It had been a good man once. Someone with a knack for old dusty tomes. They had never seen eye to eye, but shared kinship in their bookwormery. Well, it was a memory of times long gone. Now just a faint trace. It was a scar, a mark reminding her the Ollanius' loss.

Lost in her thoughts she almost missed the blinking message from one of her encripted inter coms. At first the sound was unintelligible but she was soon able to recognize the voice of Sohd Na. From there it unravelled, the Vanus had always had a disgruntled admiration for Tau and now he had chosen their language.

"Inquisitor, this is an emergency, respond in Tau."

"What's going on Sohd Na."

"I believe the Scavenger has ulterior motives, and the capability to pull them off. Has captain Ferros and his men joined with the tech guard?"

She had indeed pushed the astra militarum away, after all in the upcoming battle they would need all men available and they were the best. When the techpriest aidee had suggested that the skitarii and the guard acted jointly she had deemed it a good idea. They had been given a lot of new toys and a cohort of tech guards each. They were specialist and they could lead them in battle with better adaptability than the scripted in the followrs of Mars.

"Yes. How do you know that?"

"It was his plan. The Terran technology used in their armors for communication is good, very good, but they can hack it easily. He will know all of our moves, the skitarii were the wild card, for the lingua technis cannot be hacked."

"Damn. Good, Sohd Na. What else?"

"The ghost. The assassin. It's a psyker. And she is being conditioned. I think I've got the deactivation codes, I'll transmit them. Be careful."

A psyker? She could use a psyker. Specially if she could get it to refrain from carrying out its orders. Dying wasn't in her immediate plans.

"I will."

"Also, Inquisitor. Shouldn't the Deathwatch be receiving reinforcements?"

"Yes the terran drop ships should carry out an extraction... Oh... I see. I'll be sending the Valkyries. I hope Ran – Aldib can hold."

"About that Inquisitor. The scavenger wanted them to die, and for the terrans to see it, it didn't go as he expected, well... At least the Confessor isn't aware of this development."

"What?"

"Oh, sorry Inquisitor. I'll send you a file. The Emperor protects."

"The Emperor provides."

**≡][≡**

The image was clear. Surprisingly clear. It didn't tilt, moving as the terran switched his point of view. She could see the battlefield through the eyes of a soldier, or at least through a camera in it's helmet. His body was riveted with Zerg spines, the few that had bypassed his riot shield. At his side the deathwatch captain smiled, holding its bulk against his. The bolter rested atop of the shield, a makeshift aiming point. It's magazine marker showed that the weapon was dry. Spent magazines littering the ground gave an indication of the ammo used, dead zerg bodies a confirmation.

Both space marine and terran marine looked into the sunset, as four gigantic ultralisks advanced at a steady pace. Everything seemed to vibrate in expectation at every step. Behind them were seven other bodies, each of them had eventually fallen under the weight of exhaustion. The medic had a faint smile in her lips, as she observed the chest of the apothecary rising and failing with each breath.

Seven bodies that seemed on the verge of death. They were almost lost in the dead swarm, over run. Dead.

One stood though. The black armor was burnt, cut, nicked, and blunted. But still whole. His shoulder plate still showed a red heart atop a checked field. His fists still clenched around his power spear. His back sprouted two metallic wings, that glistened and refracted the light like a feathered mirror. His helmet had been long discarded. But the lack of metal didn't make his face more human. At the contrary his face an indistinct visage of fury, as a god of war taken flesh. His eyes were deep pools of rage, pitch black embers that only saw retribution. The deity, moved slowly, with barely contained ire. He knelt besides the terran and imperial captains. His face close to the camera. For an instant one could see into his expression. And what one would see was a single tear running through his cheek.

"Forgive me, brother."

With care the lamenter took the terran shield. He then turned around, towards the upcoming behemoths and stood firm. He strappled the shield to his arm, and with a powerful blow of his spear he knocked down the spines that had been impaled into it. Then he took a step forward. And another. And then another one. Soon he was running. A charge. An unbroken charge towards the enemy.

His battle cry echoed across the battlefield, resounding with primal fury and uncontrolled rage.

"HORUS!"

It was an agonizing cry. A declaration of intent. But above all it was death.

The Lamenter closed the distance with a jump, the Glaive Encarmine pointed squaredly at the zerg's centre. With a flare of light, the astartes cut through the creature, appearing at the other side showered in acidic gore that hissed on its flesh. Kaiser blades tried to swat him, but he was no fly, no, he was an angel. An angel of death.

His spear was struck true, breaching the headplate of one of the monsters, pushing it down to the ground. Another beast clawed at his back, tearing his wings apart. He fell but he did not falter. The battle continued. The astartes a mote of zealous anger clawing and tearing the ultras apart. His shield was torn open, broken, discarded. His spear was cut in two. Disarmed by the last ultralisk he stood defiant in the face of death, as the monster impaled him in one of his kaiser blades. As the creature draw it closer to its mouth the astartes billowed an incoherent battle cry.

He spit the zerg in the face. The Betcher's gland unloading it's acidic legacy in the hissing creature. With a wet sound the marine tore the zergs scythe. Then he draw it from his chests, and with a murderous shout returned it to the ultralisk, impaling it in his own blade.

The marine's anger did not recede. It punched the fallen creature, till the armor plates caved in, and then a little more. Thankfully the recording stopped then.

**≡][≡**


	10. War of the 3rd Millenium

**≡][≡**

The Terran cheered. Their shouts of celebration filled the air, with a volume comparable to the one the Zerg battle line had when they charged. It seemed that the Imperial and Terran combined fire power had been enough to halt the ultras advance.

While the Terran cheered Goyathlay observed. He had seen where the Terran command was. He had seen couriers moving and going, dispatching orders. He had his target. He allowed himself to laugh, a dry alien laugh that couldn't compete against the Terrans. Truth is, he knew something that they did not. A simple truth indeed.

Torrasques are hard to stop.

**≡][≡**

It had been an instant of elation. Winning tends to do that. Overpowering the enemy, emptying the ammo magazine, recharging and firing once again, reducing the enemy mass to an irreconcilable bloody pulp. Yes, the human mind enjoys winning.

Magos Dregmek's mind isn't completely human any more. He hasn't enhanced himself as some of the most extreme Mechanicum Adepts but there are stills cogitators and wires connected to what once was a healthy human brain. Others may cast emotion aside, filtering it like a noxious toxin, he didn't. Oh, he kept them in check, in fact one of its cogitators only purpose was to calculate his emotion level, and inform him if his decisions might be contaminated. He had felt more emotions in the past days that he had felt in the last ten years. Discounting the past days. It makes more sense in binary.

Either way. He knows he is feeling the contagious joy. Feeling expressed, by his Jokaero aidee and his Terran colleague. He knows better than to act on it. For he knows an old axiom. A truth that those around him don't seem to know, or remember.

There is never enough dakka.

**≡][≡**

As the front lines erupted Captain Ferros sighed. For a moment he had wished for that to be it. Let it finish there. Let my men go home. But he had never prayed properly, he was far from pious. The Emperor hadn't listened to him. Who knows? Who cares? There were bugs to kill.

"Buticularo, inter link to Boon's squad."

"Connected, Captain."

Not for the first time the Imperial guard feel no little surprise at the speed and clarity of the Terran radio. Most Elysians he knew would have traded an arm for those things, a few would have even given their grav chutes. The incredibly potent tactical advantage given to the common soldiers by instant long range communication that was clear and loud couldn't be expressed.

"Sergeant, it seems that the party is starting again. Prepare to fall back to the second line, get as many men out of there as you can. Await my order. Connect when line starts to falter."

"Aye aye captain. Will bring the zerg to the present zone. Boon out."

Boon had a knack for getting himself in trouble. Truth is, although hard to remember, that he was far younger than he looked. The 39th Cadian Shock Troops had a long history of service, and the Sergeant had been at the spear head since he was a child. Trouble would find him, and would follow. The Captain was counting on that.

He unconsciously tapped his new armor, he was also counting on those to protect most of their men. He didn't want to expect too much but the Magos had done a good job. As far as he knew it had been originally intended for the Skitarii, and judging by his Tech Guard counterpart nearby it was indeed the case. The armor that Ferros donned might be fresh from the forge. He didn't care. Black and with the inquisitorial glyph embedded in silver in his left shoulder. It was good. Next generation CMC light infantry armor, that's what the Doctor had called the base model. The good old crazy coghead had taken it a step further. He had used it to improve the scion armor that they normally wore, and made some modifications and adjustments. As far as he knew he could had let the monkey give a hand. He didn't care. As long as the ruinous powers hadn't touched it, and it hadn't been crafted by xenos enemies, he would take any advantage that he could get. And ensure that their men had the same.

"Buticularo, line to Sergeant Argol."

"Connected."

"How are things looking from up there sergeant?"

"The damn things are coming back up, and a new wave is charging from afar. There are, pardon my language, a frag tone of fliers."

"Well it's going to be your job to keep them from nabbing when we retreat. How are your new toys?"

"I prefer my old toy any time captain. But the men in red seem to be happy with their guns. I hope they are accurate."

"Tribune Malakov ensures me that their calibrations are done. Good luck Sergeant"

The line was cut. Accepting new weapons was harder for a sniper, for her her rifle was her life. And the nalwood stock the last reminder of her home. Even him, Captain Ferros, had a hard time leading with example. The old trusty hotshot lasgun had served him during countless battles. Parting with it was hard. Few of his men had taken new weapons, and those few that had had been remarkable in their own rights. The Quartermaster had produced a sound as close to a giggle that a Krieger could produce...

"Butticularo, line to the hospital, connect to the Inquisitor."

"Connected."

"Captain Ferros, what is the situation?"

"The front lines are under heavy attack. The Zerg ultras were faking their death, or have resurrected. Either way the assault has restarted and more Zerg organisms are on the way. I doubt we will be able to hold the line for more than half an hour."

"I see. Contingencies?"

The captain looked at the Eldar mercenary, who was now armored in a full corsair armor, tipped with jet packs that reminded the wings of a soaring hawk. In his hand rested a laser lance and a fusion gun. The Eldar gave a dry nod to the Imperial. He then looked at the Kroot, who was holding the rifle without a shadow of emotion. The xenos just blinked.

"In place."

"Good."

"How are things over there?"

"We are having tea and pastries here. Only my medic, yours and my lovely Terran shadow. Who doesn't seem to want any pastry.  _Shi'ur._  Or tea for the matter. For the Emperor's shinies, how in the warp you think I am? Bed ridden in an hospital with an arm missing while xenos come to our throats. And the only company who seems to want to break a word is a mad navigator who screams at the top of his lungs. Not fun."

With an explosion of rage the line was cut. He could have missed it, as an abrupt interdiction, an internal curse. He could have missed it if he wasn't waiting for it. He knew that any other listening to the conversation would have missed it. The short word was in Tau. An enemy they had fought together more than once.  _Shi'ur_  had one meaning. A simple meaning. "Strong triumph". It was time for the pieces to fall.

"Buticularo, connect with Trooper Van Saar."

"Connected."

"Captain is good to hear from you, how can I be of help?"

"It's good to have you back Trooper. Is Trooper Stahl ready?"

"Aye, aye Captain. The tanks are ready."

"Good. Prepare for the counter-offensive it will be necessary after all."

"We will be waiting."

The preparatives were almost ready. The Zerg were coming again. They had risen from the graves they had sent them. They were coming, again. They would welcome them. Give them some Imperial hospitality.

"Tribune Malakov."

The praetorian looked at him. His gaze was strong, cold, calculating. Two black eyes deeply hidden behind a prominent nose in a face that looked all too human for a tech guard. His body though, showed his alliance. He wore an amor almost identical to that of the Captain, but painted red and embellished with the cog wheel of Mars.

"How is our little project going?"

"79.5% implemented Captain. ETA in 30 minutes Terran standard."

"Good maintain me updated."

It seemed that the pieces were falling in their places.

"Captain. Sergeant Boon establishing a connection. Passing him through."

"Captain. We are being quite pressed over here. The big ones threat with throwing down the wall, and the men are starting to get nervous."

"Can you get your men to run for their lives?"

"I don't know. Thorpe is good at drilling, this men make the Terrax Guard proud."

"Well I want them to run in the most disordered manner. Tell Bartle and O'Hen, whoever gets here first gets the other as an aidee for the next month."

"Yes. That will get them moving. Time to retreat Captain, see you soon."

That was too soon, he had hoped for the line to hold a little longer. But if something was truth in the battlefield is that no plan survives the contact with the enemy.

**≡][≡**

"We have located the Inquisitor."

There was a wide grin in the Scavenger face. A smile that wasn't tarnished in the least by the minor setback that had occurred when the marines had survived their particular hell. If the Imperials diverted some of their aerial capacity from the battle front all the better. The Wraiths and Banshees of the Dusk Wing will be ready to take the mutalisks and when the time comes the few Imperial resisting.

"Where is she?"

The glint in the Rogue Trader promised death and retribution. No one cages and chains a Velonius for long, it was time. If he had to dirty his hands killing the damn Inquisitor he would do it. Not for the Scavenger's offer of ship and crew, nor for his wounded pride, no, just because the bitch needed to die.

"Hospital tent. mperial medic with her, my Ghost and the Navigator. I want the Navigator under custody. You know the Ghost's activation word, use it if things go south."

The Scavenger tossed a Peacemaker revolver to the Imperial. An old weapon. Simple. Trusty. Effective.

Once the Imperial killer had left his room the Scavenger looked at the panel. He interconnected to the adjutant.

"Adjutant have there been any hacks into the vid network?"

"Yes. 127 unauthorized access and counting. Localized along the lower bays."

"Good. It's time to heat and shake the wasps' nest. Increase the temperature in the lower bays, unlock ammo crates and weapon caches. Pump some adrenaline. Lock the chapel. Ensure there is a path operational towards Captain Jackson chambers, and to the rooms of our Imperial guest. Send the psychos. In ten minutes start call to arms. What is the integrity of our outer walls?"

"Acknowledged. Integrity is operational. The Khaydarin crystal grid is stable and weakening the swarm gestalt enough to divert them towards the Imperial operated towers. Should I reroute power towards their wall sections? The Zerg have almost breached them, activating their Khaydarin crystals would increase their expected survival time."

"Negative."

One had to dispose of the tools one they had suited their purpose. The Rogue Trader would be killed soon enough, Captain Jackson wouldn't be hard to deal with given the Duke's crew reputation, and once those two were dealt with he would be the only one with access to the charts, and the new knowledge they contained. He would wait, bid his time, and in ten minutes his troops would save the day. The few surviving Imperials would join with him or be executed.

**≡][≡**

The wall wasn't going to hold much longer. The few servitors gun crews who had stood back holding the line would be spatted with the rest of it. The Torrasques below it disregarded them as small flies while time after time they crushed themselves against the adamantine walls. Under the Torrasques a swarm of Zerglings and Roaches awaited, clawing at the fortification in anticipation.

Sergeant Boon had retreated many times. In war sometimes you win, sometimes you die for the Emperor, and if you happen to be blessed enough to be in Inquisitor's Halwinnit Kayleck retinue sometimes you run to fight another day. If there is another day. There wasn't another day today. This was an strategical retreat.

And it was the strangest strategical retreat he had ever seen. For once, some of the men around him were from before the dark age of technology. Most of the other men around were Imperial Navy. The familiar ones, Thorpe, Bartle, O'Hen ran with the tide, trying to outpace each other. This wasn't an ordered retreat like the ones he was used too, no, he was sure Thorpe would have shoot them in the back if he wasn't busy running himself. The thing he missed the most of retreats, ordered retreats that is, were the songs. Bartle would sing Praetorian marches while O'Hen would try to outdo him with Mordian hymns. Ah... the songs.

But the Captain had been clear. Disarrayed mob he had said, disarrayed mob he had been given, and a cherry on top. They were running when the wall behind them fell. Two of the immortal ultralisks clawed their way through. As they did, it was as if a damn broke loose and a tide of smaller Zerg organisms rushed through. With them a cloud of mutalisks started spraying glaive wurms on them. For a moment no one needed to motivate the Imperial to run.

Almost all Imperial air capacity was either destroyed, due to the first Terran attack, or compromised rescuing the Space and Terran marine survivors. Luckily for them the Dusk Wings provided some appreciated distraction to the swarm. Still that left the ground based Zerg free realm, and outrunning the swarm even with a head start wasn't an easy feat. Even if they had cover fire. Argol's sniper team, reinforced by an influx of Skitarii armed with F92s, thinned the Zerg rank behind them, keeping the worst xenos at bay.

As they ran the ground broke down around them. Hydralisks and lurkers erupted from the earth. They formed a thin corridor around the human group. A row that received them hailing spines. It seemed that the Zerg weren't as stupid as they seemed. They had lured the running humans into a trap. The soldiers' no longer needed to feign disarray, they were all running for their lives. The Zerg swarm was instigated by the fear they could smell in the human mob.

But the swarm had made a mistake, they had assumed that Imperial and Terran tactics were comparable. Yes, the death toll of the Terran marines was high, and short was their life expectancy. They couldn't hold a candle to Imperial creed, where risking or sacrificing whole planets was acceptable as long as the objective was met. And the objective had been met. The Zerg were where they needed to be.

No one remembered the siege tanks till they boomed their load atop the horde. Explosions flowered across the xenos, blowing them into small pieces. The Siege Breaker pilots mastering their targets. The intelligent ammunition on their cannons, scanned the targets as they fell, redirecting the sharpnel towards the alien threat.

They had taken the Zerg and put them where they needed them, but the truth was that Sergeant Boon wasn't happy about it. The last lines had fallen prey to the enemies, and probably to friendly fire. Now it was time to make them pay. With drilled orders the Imperial line formed in front of the ranks of tanks, holding their lasguns pointed towards the Zerg mass that was reorganizing itself.

"Crack shots aren't they?"

Boon smiled at the sight of Trooper Van Saar, he hadn't seen him since he had ended being destined into the Terran vessel, dealing with their men as a sort of spy. His armor though, showed his allegiance, black with the silver inquisitorial symbol on his left shoulder.

"So it is you old dog who got this gentlemen to aid us in the frail? I'm sure Stahl is going to get pretty jealous when he sees those tanks."

"Oh. Stahl has seen them. Who do you think has enough accuracy to not blow your stupid face off?"

The steel legionnaire voice came from one of the tank scuttles. His hair was white, contrasting against his old and wrinkled skin who had a leathery tone. Yet there was still a shine of life in him, perhaps it was due to being amidst a crazed battlefield, perhaps it was the new armor, but Boon was pretty sure that it was the new toys.

"Now what?"

"Now we hold them off."

As he spoke the Imperial tanks advanced and intermixed themselves with the Terrans. Leman Russ Annihilators fired their laser weapons at the few Zerg organisms that survived the barrage. Leman Russ Executioners simply awaited, their plasma cannons ready to over power the torrasques, if they dared to stand up.

"Until the Terran send reinforcements."

**≡][≡**

When his door opened by itself the infocyte was troubled. When a man, wearing a dirty orange coverall and a C-14 rifle appeared at he doorstep he was worried. He Had heard the communication between the Scavenger and the Adjutant earlier, and new what was coming.

Had he been what the Terran believed him to be, he would have been easily dispatched. A translator clerk, a civilian. They had made a mistake. Maybe the Vanus preferred to avoid direct confrontation, maybe they preferred not to be seen... But they were far from defenceless.

A netflies host charged the man. Each fly a minute mixture of machinery and flesh, a simple crude tool. They were designed to chip at cables, connecting the infocyte to the datastream seamlessly. The tiny teeth and claws, made to break through metal and cable, had an easy time nabbing at soft tissue. Like their more organic inspiration the flies went for the eyes, the mouth, the ears, the exposed skin... The unfortunate man tried to fire, at first at the assassin, then blindly. His weapon didn't fire. A netfly had bitten into the gun, jamming the loading system. He moved towards the assassin, trying to overpower him with brute force. He died as he moved.

Sohd Na had wanted to stay there for longer. The more information he gained from the Terrans the better, for the Inquisition and the Imperium. But he was going to need an extraction. Soon.

He ran across the corridors, using the psyber-mice as eyes and ears, avoiding enemies at all cost. In the rooms around him his mice saw men donning armor and arming themselves, for war. A few of them, were painting black and white check fields in their armor, others were drawing red hearts atop them. The troops were getting ready. Others, didn't need much preparation, like the man who had assaulted him were only wearing their coveralls. They moved as rabid dogs. Hunting.

Priority objective one: secure assets, the Terran Captain had access to space charts and his life was also at risk; the Adjutant had a cornucopia of technology if his readings were accurate and as far as he knew he had only scratched the surface. Priority objective two: escape.

**≡][≡**

"Accipiter is missing."

The Quartermaster was now enclosed in her new black armor. Hers was distinct to that of most of the other troopers, she had kept the old rebreather and helmet that had served her since leaving Krieg, and she also wore a full Narthecium which had been improved with Terran medic tools.

She surveyed the results of the battle, without letting a hint of her emotions filter into her voice. It seemed that they all had survived, in one measure or another. The Terran were barely alive, only excessive use of drugs and painkillers kept them going, the servitors accompanying the quartermaster had started to tend their injuries as soon as they were put in the Valkyries. The space marines weren't much better, Ran – Aldib was filled with spikes, Mihai had lost the left side of its face to a zerg scythe, while Agrippa's right arm had been torn away, Baldassare... Baldassare was the worst, while it's body held it's mind was broken beyond repair believing itself to be Sanguinius incarnate.

Accipiter was missing nowhere to be seen. But her responsibilities were not only towards the people under her care. She was Quartermaster and had to take care of the equipment. The fact that one of the marine sniper rifles, two shotguns and a camaleonine cloak was missing, while the rest was where it was expected to be, hinted to the survival of Accipiter.

The Raptor was hunting.

**≡][≡**

While the imperial cunning and fire power had kept the battle from falling in Zerg claws there was still a critical mass that was being reached. As many ork philosophers new, there is never enough dakka.

Without the aid of the Terrans they would fall. It was just a matter of...

"HORUS!"

The war cry was raw in their throats. It had been more than two millennia since the galaxy had heard the battlecry, and it would be more than ten times that before it would hear it again. It makes sense then, that the meaning of the word had been lost to the ages.

In ancient Terra Horus had been "the distant one", "the one above", a god of the sky, of protection, but also of war and above all of vengeance. The few Terran that had bothered, had unveiled that meaning. For them it made sense. A special sense that the battlecry that had been ushered in the old sands of Egypt was now intoned in Mar Sara.

They had no way to know the other meaning.

For Horus was also the Warmaster. The Arch traitor. And in the lips of the Lamenter Space Marine it hadn't been a cry for motivation, not a shout for patronage, nor inspiration. It had been primal fury.

As the Terran marines charged the Zerg mass the battle cry was raw in their throats. Maybe the Imperial didn't care much, if the Terrans were going to take some Zergs out of the equation hey could for all they know demand blood for the blood god. A soldier's life doesn't have many commodities, and more targets for the enemy are always in short demand.

"HORUS!"

For the Terrans it was a cry of vengeance, a way to honour the fallen marines that had died ensuring that they were able to create a perimeter with Khaydarin crystals to keep the swarm away. It was now their time to save the day. Their battle cry echoed across the valley of death.

**≡][≡**

"For the throne what in the warp is going on?"

Captain Ferros observed the auspex as the Terran entered the frail. But all he heard in the radio lines was a fanatical chant, Horus and Horus again.

"Tribune Malakov, initiate now, now, we need secure lines."

The Tribune clicked for a second and then he produced a sound alien to the human mind, as a cloud of gas igniting or metal tearing into metal, numbers in a shade of green started purring in one of the augmentics in his neck.

"000011010000101000110100010011000100110000100000001101010111110000111100001100010011011100110100010100100011000100110001001011000010000000110101001100110010100001010101010100100011000100110111001001110010111100100000001101010011000100111001001011110101110000101111010111000011010000100000001101110101110000101111010111000010111100110000"

He then paused for a moment.

"It is done Captain."

"Good, Butticularo activate all vox receivers, no more radio communication unless on my orders. Now let's find out what is going on with the Arch Traitor."

"I fear I can answer that question. But for now let's call it a misunderstanding Captain, we have direr problems."

The brother-captain had arrived, his armor was dented and the acidic roach blood had exposed the bare ceramite, giving him a metallic hue. He had still two spines lodged in his chest, such was the haste with which he had come to the command center. By his side were two more marines, Brother Mihai and Agrippa, both carried the raw after effects of the battlefield. Mihai had lost his helmet, and with it most of his left side of the face that was now charred and crisped, his left eye was missing in its socket giving him the eerie appearance of a skull. Agrippa wasn't much better, for his whole right arm was gone.

"Brother Agrippa, you are an Imperius Reaver, what does the Codex Astartes say?"

"There is no kill like over kill, Brother-Captain."

"Seems fair, Captain have the men retreat so the Zerg are in range of the Ollanius main batteries."

"If we do that we might loose the Terran vessel, they will be overrun."

Butticularo coughed, it was a dry fake cough. When it failed to catch attention, he coughed again.

"Speaking of which Captain, Adept Sohd Na requests extraction, he says he has important information. He is sending it now."

Captain Ferros looked at the dataslate, he couldn't understand most of it, but if what he was able to deduce was true it was of vital interest to the mechanicum. Tribune Malakov didn't have any doubt.

"We need this. For Mars and the Imperium. The Magos will want to secure this himself."

Ran – Aldib looked towards Mihai, the Blood Ravens were renowned for their knack in recovering lost relics. It seemed that the expertise of the chapter was going to prove useful.

"Brother Mihai assist Magos Dregmek in the extraction. Brother Agrippa help the Captain with your tactical expertise. I'm going to find the Inquisitor."

**≡][≡**

"For the Emperor!"

The shout threatened to drown the name of the Arch Traitor in the Terran battlefield. Wearing a blackened firebat armor that had white bones and skulls imprinted on it the Confessor took to the frail.

"Burn the heretic!"

The flames didn't care much, who they burned igniting the Zerg and the humans that dared come to close. Few dared. Most just concentrated in the Zerg in front of them, switching the name of the arch traitor for praises to the Emperor. Those that didn't burned.

The confessor was sure that it had been a machination of the Scavenger, corrupting those few that hadn't joined him in the chapel. The traitor had blocked them, stranding them from the rest of the ship. Him and his first converts had had to open a way with fire and blood. When they had reached the bridge the Scavenger was gone.

He would burn him at another time.

**≡][≡**

Goyathlay saw the Zerg swarm broken against the Terran and Imperial fronts. At first they had had enough push. But as the battle continued it was clear that they had lured into a lucky trap. His pack, like many others had been caught in the frail but unlike them they did fight with purpose and target.

Their goal was within sight. A medic tent. He had observed it, it was clear that some people came and went from it as if carrying messages by hand. Goyathlay suspected that it was due to mistrust between the different human groups. The Swarm didn't understand that. They fought, sometimes, more as a mean to evolve than as a true attempt to destroy their enemies. As such, there was a sort of implicit trust. The Swarm doesn't fight itself, it just evolves. Humans don't do that. Humans would gladly kill each other. As a Primal he understood, misunderstanding, miscommunication were weapons. He could use that.

The hunter was focused in his prey, as was the rest of his pack, but one doesn't survive for long in Zerus without devolving a raw survival instinct. An instinct that saved his essence. Goyathlay jumped and as he did he dodged a blast that drilled a deep hole where he had been standing.

In front of his pack stood two figures, one was mechanized, wearing an armour like that of a sweeping hack, floating above ground and spearing towards him. The other, almost naked held a long bladed rifle that was still smoldering. What was clear is that neither of them was human, he didn't recognize their race, their species. And as a gourmand ready to savor a new dish he threw himself head on to the melee.

**≡][≡**

"Adjutant lock all systems."

After a moment of silence the Scavenger repeated the command. There was no response. The adjutant had somehow been compromised. He didn't want to believe it. But what he wanted didn't matter. He didn't want the space marines to be alive, and much less in his ship, but he had seen one breach the perimeter. For now he had to assume that they had disabled his adjutant, and that they were after him with lethal intentions.

He had initiated the way to the exhaust chambers. From there he would be able to exit the cruiser. He was confident that between his cloaking device, the khaydarin tools that he had crafted for himself and the general disarray of the battlefield he would be able to evade everyone's attention. Like he had always don he would survive.

But this time, he would leave a present to his pursuers. A rather expensive one. Schezar shot the crystal tanks that started to release a purple mist.

**≡][≡**

The Protoss observers were everywhere. If the Imperial Auspex were able to ping them the battlefield's anarchy made them little more than noise in the sidelines. The Tribe Leader observed through the screens. He saw many things, he observed as the Zerg breached the perimeter, he then studied the Terran and imperial response as they drew the assailants into a trap. A trap that was soon sprung as the Terrans charged the rear of the Zerg offensive.

All that was now forgotten. The Protoss eyes were focused on a smaller front, a battlefield within a battlefield.

"I am Kroot!"

The Kroot auxiliary troke down with strength driving the spike in the end of his rifle through the head of a primal. He then threw himself backwards, spinning as an eldar lance impaled the primal that occupied the space where he had been a moment earlier.

Both of them moved in a coordinated manner, like two ho had taken the battlefield many times together. But the pack wasn't going to stand behind. They were pinnacle hunters and they were many. With claw, teeth and simple mass they were wearing the prey down.

The Kroot was the first to fall, Goyathlay tore its leg off as he shoot at one of the other members of the pack. From there it didn't take much to devour his essence. The Primal soon devoured the essence and started to change. His head started to change as a long mane of quills grew on him.

For a moment he was lost in bliss. The prey contained much more than what was apparent, its essence was not bland like that of Terrans, but if had punch and spice like if it where a chimeric old primal. Each taste lead to the next. So lost was him in sensation that he almost didn't dodge the retaliation shoot from the Eldar.

The fight continued, but one against many was even worse han wo against many. And surrounded by Zerg the Eldar couldn't last much. A primal saw a chance when the lance struck towards Goyathlay, he jumped at the corsair and his jaw closed in the air that the Eldar had occupied before. Fleet of foot he moved at a speed that defied simple physics. Perhaps for the Zerg it was impossible to understand, but the observing Protoss saw through it.

_"That... is a psychic!"_

The Tribe Leader thoughts resonated within the Dark Templar's mind who gave a dry nod.

_"Bring him to me Talrisis. Go."_

The Dark Templar moved swiftly, using the looted Khaydarin crystals at the Terran wall to reach the battlefield.

**≡][≡**

Magos Dregmek had left the Doctor and the Jokaero behind. It was not that he didn't trust Wei – Hsai, the man had proved his worth and skill even if his devotion to the Omnissiah was lacking. But his cogitators feared a conflict of interests, there was no need to put the poor Doctor loyalty to test , at least till the Terran had shared all his knowledge on technology. The Omnissiah would understand.

He had lead the Skitarii forward. As the Swarm had approached them they were tackled back with laser fire and bolter rounds from the space marine accompanying them. Sometimes when they had gotten too close a Widow Mine had sneaked out of his robes rushing towards the incoming Zerg and detonating in a suicide strike.

Now they were in the bellows of the Terran battlecruiser. He had to admire its craft and maintenance, the Terran crafters were efficient, if blasphemous. Magos Dregmek reminded himself that it was due to their ignorance and not a malign intent. He had been ignorant once. He hadn't know of the machine spirit when he had been young, living in the desert putting scraps of metal together to impress the mechs or running around the pyramids looking for some tool that would give him an edge. From there it had been a tough life. He had jumped into an Explorator vessel that had landed in Aurelis, and from there he had started his run with the Mechanicum. At first he had been a Reclaimator living in the vowels of the vessel, running away from servitors and Skitarii hunting from him, hunting for pieces and broken things that could be used to repair the ship. Planet after planet he had survived, thrived, till he had finally achieved the rank of Explorator. He hadn't been ignorant by then. But he still understood simpler, more ignorant minds.

Joining the Inquisitor had seemed a wise move at the time, and she had repaid his efforts. At first the Jokaero aidee, who had proved himself an invaluable help and source of inventive, the Inquisitorial resources, allowing him to play with toys that were well beyond the reach of most adepts, the Doctor, who was still proving useful, and now... this if what Sohd Na was true...

The mechadentrite was at the lock, tampering with it. He was chanting, appealing to the machine spirit to let them through. It was a simple spirit, deeply asleep, but he was able to move him in its slumber. As the door opened he detected that something was wrong. An unaugmented human, might have identified it as a pervasive bitter coppery smell, but he had augments and his readings revealed a gas not dissimilar in composition to fossil fuels, except for some components that were exotic organics and some other more esoteric unknowns. The magos blocked his breather, reusing the artificial air inside his lungs as the world turned purple.

Then came the shouts. The Skitarii didn't last much. But the marine... his augmented physiology refused the contaminants. The Preomnor and the Multilung were working at their peak efficiency refusing the Terrazine that infested his organisms. He lasted. And he shouted for the whole time.

**≡][≡**

Marcius Velonius was a man that had made himself. He had created an empire. He had taken worlds and bounties. And he knew how to seize an opportunity. With the mastery of a ballet dancer he skimmed across the battlefield, dodging Zerg, Terran and Imperial alike.

He sneaked into the medicae tent and raised the old weapon in his hand. It was time for taking vengeance. Everything was going to warp knows where, but now, now was the time to kill the damned inquisitor bitch.

He saw her. She was laying in bed, barely conscious with several probes and tubes connecting to her missing arm. Tending her was the sister hospitalier and a trooper who had renewed his armor but was still using herb pouches and poultices from his tribal origin. Besides her was the ace in the hole, the Ghost stood there unflinching.

He raised his pistol and pointed at those gathered there.

"Nobody moves. This is a mutiny."

The Inquisitor opened her eyes and there was a glint of fear in them. He delighted himself in that expression. Fear was good. He had had fear when she had thrown him into a rotten hole. She had then described... what was it... the nine steps.

"The nine steps, remember them bitch? We are going to walk them again. But this time, this time there is a catch. You don't have anything to tell me that may interests me. So we are going to skip the first. The second is simple. I've got a gun. You do not. I'm going to put a bullet through each of you. Until I run out. Simple enough?"

The Inquisitor smiled.

"That was bad, even for a first attempt. And you are wrong..."

The Rogue Trader moved, with his face contrite in a mask of rage. But before he reached his goal, the shouts coming from the other medicae bed.

"The swarm! The swarm! It's coming. It's coming!"

Without a flinch the man cocked the pistol and looked at the Inquisitor in the eye.

"Activation protocol, four two, silence that damn navigator."

The ghost stirred, her eyes blinked, twice. Then she moved. Fast. Really fast. Her hand reached towards the gun in the rogue trader hand. She pulled and twisted. She held the gun. As the Rogue Trader tried to get the weapon back she kicked him with strength. The man fell back against the tanks in the medicae tent. Behind him, a hand infested by the Zerg stirred.

"Kill him."

The Inquisitor didn't take much time to gloat. She had seen villains and heretics all across the Imperium. She had seen them lose time talking, explaining their cunning plan. She could explain how she had lifted the conditioning in the Ghost mind, how she had acquired her loyalty, she could explain many things. In the end none of those things mattered, the Rogue Trader was to die. If she needed to stroke her ego she would do when they were out of danger.

The Ghost pulled the trigger. The weapon barked a rain of lead. It was a clean hit, the bulled dived through his heart. As it did the crystal behind broke. A bladed tentacle cut the glass, releasing the liquid inside and what had at some point been a human hand. The Zerg virus had changed it. Greatly.

The claw dug into the fallen Rogue Trader, digging through the bullet hold and holding the heart in its grasp. The Zerg tendrils extended encircling and connecting into the body, like the strings of a puppet. The pressure forced the dead body to open its mouth dislocating its jaw in a last posthumous shout. For a moment the movement ceased. Like a break before the storm. Then it started again, like an old machine stirring to life. The hand pressed the heart, as an old used pump. A pump that inoculated some semblance of life in the old body. It's limbs trashed like a fish out of water, it's left arm broken, torn, bending in an unnatural manner.

It's lips moved. No sound came from them but a voice filled the tent. The Navigator was giving voice to thoughts, dark and alien.

"The Swarm is coming Inquisitor. The Swarm doesn't care about you. You are just a morsel to devour. You are just a..."

A wet sound interrupted the narration as a Zerg, a Primal bite and tore the torso of the Navigator. The mutant still tried to speak, but no air passed through his lungs. After a heartbeat of struggle the release of an agonizing death reached the man, his eyes stopped darting frantically to be fixed in an unflinching rigor and then close. As life left him, change took place in his devourer. A dark orb, a parody of an eye, appeared in his brow. It was black and deep as a shadow well. And the Inquisitor new full well what it meant.

"Dodge!"

The Inquisitor throw herself to the ground, rolling over her missing arm, while reaching for the metal prosthesis. The wired reflexes in the Ghost made her follow the command almost immediately ducking towards the Inquisitor. The medics weren't so fast. Their gazes were lured to the beast, their eyes hypnotized into the darkness. They fell. Like dolls. Like empty husks. Dead in an instant.

**≡][≡**

Terrazine isn't a stable gas. It doesn't last long when not properly stored. Without jorium it isn't even stable. That didn't make it better. The shouts soon turned into wet noises as it just asphyxiated the Skiitari. Magos Dregmeck contemplated turning off his hearing augmentics, but discarded it as an ilogical solution. Not only were his men dying because of him, but with the purple mist surrounding them his hearing was the only sense that provided data. Being blind and deaf while men died around him wasn't something that he wanted to experience.

The Blood Raven lasted longer. Astartes didn't feel fear but they surely felt pain. It also came to an end. At first Magos Dregmeck believed that one of his automatic cogitators had adjusted his hearing, ignoring the noise of death around him. He ran a maintenance protocol, twice. Making sure. His hearing worked fine. There was just no sound to hear.

Soon his sight came back.

**≡][≡**

Talrisis ran. She ran like only a Protoss can. Her body mass reducing itself by the powers of the void. Powers that pushed herself forward. It was not enough. The Eldar fought alone.

The Eldar was graceful, dodging and attacking seamlessly, soaring in the midst of Zerg. His spear had been broken, the tip rested across a large primal driven through its hear, the rest of it was now an improvised baton in the crafty hands of the warrior. The fusion gun, that had roared beasts out of existence with overheated potency was now silent. One of his wings, was bitten and nagged, making his movements slower and keeping him close to the ground. He was dying.

Talrisis ran. Faster. It didn't matter. The Eldar was taken down, the Zerg who had devoured the Kroot and now sported a lustful mane was the one to strike. His jaws clenching around the waist, biting hard and deep. For an instant Talrisis heard a song, a perfect pitch in her mind, the last song of the Eldar. It was a song of joy, of pure unexpected bliss. She who thirst isn't waiting. She who thirst isn't yet. The Eldar soul was leaving, in peace, free. Suddenly the Protoss felt a tang of dread and despair. A device, a tiny stone, clutched the last remains of the Eldar's consciousness and pulled. Like a trap it didn't release its grasp encasing the Eldar's soul in a phylactery.

Decided to avenge Talrisis ran. She charged at the Primal who was still changing, her scythe descending in an arc that would behead the foul beast. The Zerg simply moved aside, almost gracefully. The blade cut one of the quills, but otherwise missed its target entirely.

With glee the Zerg turned towards the Protoss. It projected it's thoughts in a brutal timbre that didn't admit retort.

_"I can see you."_

**≡][≡**


	11. The eye of the Beholder

**≡][≡**

"I can see."

Magos Dregmeck looked around, gazing upon the voice that echoed his thoughts. Somehow, the space marine had survived the purple cloud and was now standing. Astartes physiology ensues that they can survive where lesser men would perish, but the martian priest had to admit his surprise. He looked at him marveling, not for the first time, at the foresight and power of the Omnissiah. The Emperor had built them with durability in mind. " _They shall be my finest warriors, these men who give of themselves to me. Like clay I shall mould them, and in the furnace of war forge them. They will be of iron will and steely muscle. In great armour shall I clad them and with the mightiest guns will they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease, no sickness will blight them. They will have tactics, strategies and machines so that no foe can best them in battle. They are my bulwark against the Terror. They are the Defenders of Humanity. They are my Space Marines and they shall know no fear._ " That had been the Omnissiah's will.

Even if they knew no fear Magos Dregmeck was no space marine himself. He knew fear. It mostly manifested in cogitated readings at the edge of his sight. A runic message of warning. And looking at the blood raven's face displayed ode's of fear, a simple indication to put as much distance between the unknown menace and himself. For Mihai's right eye had changed, transmuting fully into dark purplish blue, but it was his left eye, where only charred skin and black nothingness had been before, that scared the Magos. The Blood Raven's left eye was aflame, like a will o' the wisp from ancient myth.

"I can see."

It repeated, and Magos Dregmeck was certain that the Astartes wasn't seeing in the same manner that he did. No genenhancement, nor augmentic in the Martian Priesthood repertory could achieve that. Brother Mihai, the Blood Raven,  _saw_.

**≡][≡**

"Found you."

Brother Accipiter didn't talk much. It was remarkably rare for him to confraternize with others. He was old. And when a space marine gets old he has seen much. And when someone has seen much, talking ends getting tedious. As such the event was significant. Not for the terminal velocity bolter projectile that was currently diving through the zerg's Broodmother's skull. Nor for the other bullets chasing after the first but pointed at the group of organisms that escorted the leader. No, xenos die when confronted by Deathwatch. The remarkable thing that day was that Brother Accipiter not only stated the obvious but he also did so without public to hear him.

If he had been younger the Raptor would have pondered if he had, what humans liked to call, a sense of humor.

**≡][≡**

Goyathlay felt the sudden change of pace in the battlefield. The Swarm felt at a loss, it was as if they had lost direction, keeping the last order given and disregarding their own safety. Fortunately for him he didn't need directions from the Swarm.

He was primal. He takes essence. He evolves. It had always been simple. It wasn't as simple now. The last prey had fought well and had given him many gifts. His sight was better, than it had even been before, Goyathlay even believed that his "sight" could no longer described with such plain word. He moved faster, almost at the speed of thought, he only needed to wish to move to do so, it was cathartic. The new essence was still changing him, deep inside, he was no scientist nor poet as such he didn't know many words to explain what was going on. If he had tried he would have said that it was as if the essence offered him paths, possible evolutions, to take.

**≡][≡**

The creature that had been at some point the last scion of the noble and most ancient house of Velonious felt something akin to joy. The Rogue Trader memories were, mostly, intact. His cognitive capacity and his sensory arrays were still working. Thus he understood what the black orb in the zerg's brow meant. It meant among many things a living navigator. A most peculiar  _homo navigo,_ who probably was more navigo than homo at this stage. It meant a way to return home. The thing that had been Marcius Velonius didn't know much about home, other than a sense of longing and sated needs, but was certain that had it not turned in what it was now it would have wanted to go home. It almost felt curiosity, interest.

The nascent zerg being didn't have much time to analyze its feelings, whether new or old, for a new contender had entered the tent. It searched Velonious memories, and contrasted them with his sensorial input. It was close to human, it probably had been human once, but like it was now different. Stronger. It knew that the new comer had been evolved artificially, geneforged, into what was know as a "space marine". It had to agree with Velonious, the space marine was strong, but where Velonious would have felt fear or jealousy it felt hunger. The creature moving the dead Rogue Trader wished to devour, to evolve.

The Space Marine wasn't only strong. He was intelligent. He had analyzed the situation, assessing the primal as a threat and taking measures to eliminate the zerg _navigo_. The first measure had been to close his own eyes. It, the creature, doubted that such action would have resulted effective against the navigator, Velonious memories seemed to prove that it indeed was folly, but had to admit that the primal was probably still adapting to the recent change. As such the primal was unable to use his new toy.

Velonious memories reminded it that the astartes were capable combatants, with acute senses, to what it responded with a grin and the thought of zerg claws and jaws. The primal seemed to follow its patterns of thought, using tooth and nail to defend itself against the self blinded space marine. It wanted to observe the fight, to learn, and to devour the loser before eating the debilitated winner.

But alas it was then when he felt the pull. It was zerg after all. And when the Broodmother died it knew. It knew what a broodmother was. And it remembered that it also knew what the other zerg organisms where. It knew what a zergling was, what an ultralisk was or what an hydralisk was. And as tempting as the combatants in front of him where, the zerg had reminded him of an ever more tempting target. It ran, as fast as the broken legs of Marcius Velonious allowed it, towards the new prey. The remains of the belated queen would be its spoils. And then he would be Zerg.

**≡][≡**

The magos had hurried towards the primary objective. Rescuing infocyte Sohd Na and recovering the terran servitor. Brother Mihai hadn't opposed it. He had seen the fear inside the priest like a tang of acre black. He still saw it, even if the adept was well beyond his sight and had put corridors and walls between them. Brother Mihai could see.

The blood ravens battle cry echoed in his ears. "Knowledge is power, guard it well." Knowledge is power; Mihai knew many things. Some he had known for a long time but were forgotten. He had seen the librarians train the recruits, he had followed the mental exercises to discipline and focus the mind. Those where now clear, as if he had learned them the day before. His mind was honed. Other things he had never known but were now revealed. Among those things many ached him, and threatened to drive him mad well beyond redemption. Those secrets, those dire secrets, he would guard well.

He chased after the enemy. His Battle Sight was clear, showing the fear of the running man as a black dot in the distance. It was far away. But not farther than his sight could reach. The exercise came to him with ease. The corvidae had focused their studies in seeing and now he followed his older kind. He was able to see the Scavenger as if it was in front of him. Schezar was a top a custom Vulture that was dashing through Mar Sara at top speed. The marine raised his hand. In part reaching to the running man, but also reaching to the immaterium. He knew of the perils of the warp. He knew that his brothers wore a hood to help them, to aid them, in their tasks. But the warp was at calm like it won't ever be on the forty first millenium, his powers awakened and enhanced by the Terrazine he could draw much raw power. It didn't matter that the Corvidae hadn't been adepts at telekinetic manipulation, it didn't matter that he lacked finesse or skill. When he closed his grasp the Vulture imploded unto itself.

**≡][≡**

Talrisis saw the zerg be massacred around her. Someone had killed their commander and now they were turning feral. It wouldn't take much before another zerg organisms assumed control and directed their efforts anew. But it was a chance. And a chance was all that the Dark Templar needed.

She shifted her attack, becoming more aggressive and menacing the primal with the edge of her scythe, pushing the creature backwards. It was clear that her opponent could also sense the battlefield's pulse for he started shrieking something. All the Dark Templar could hear was a musical sound, a call for retreat nonetheless.

She saw another zerg creature, a primal with a black eye in the brow, run from the central tent. If the one that had been fighting her had scared the protoss that one terrorized her. She could see a strong psychic light in front of the black eye, as if it was a dark beacon. Knowing better than to engage such creature the protoss took the chance to rescue the remains of the Eldar.

Most of it had been devoured, its essence taken. The armor was damaged beyond repair and Talrisis wasn't sure she or the protoss could repair it, she didn't recognize the material but it seemed to resonate with psychic energy. Among the fallen things there was one that picked her interest the most. A small jewel. The decoration had a warm red glow, although Talrisis could have sworn it had been purple when the Eldar had been alive, and resonated stronger to the void energies.

Talrisis concentrated, she could almost heard the stone speaking...

" _Run._ "

**≡][≡**

Magos Dregmeck couldn't cry. His lacrimal conducts had been replaced long ago with more efficient coolants and lubricators. There had been securities in place to ensure that the application was optimal. He wasn't crying. He was only excreting coolant in what was, in his opinion, a gesture of reverence. Many cultures had equated crying, the gift of ones water, with an impression of pure emotion, joy or sadness. Magos Dregmeck wasn't sure that his cogitators worked alright. Since he had reached Mar Sara, or Graia, he had felt the joy of rediscovery. He had consciously calibrated his systems, trying to quantify his emotions, bisect them and understand better their effects and causes. Now the joy he felt was out of any charted measurement. Magos Dregmeck cried.

Before him stood what Magos Delphan Gruss had theorized, the thing that the Magos had dedicated his whole life to acquire. And it was beautiful. The Omnicopaeia had the shape of a young human female, the innocence of metal in her factions. She had been silent. Infocyte Sohd Na had tried to no avail to awaken the machine, probing it with its cybermice and other tools. The Magos had pushed him aside with a mechadentrite. When the other man, the one wearing the terran uniform, had come to him, he had raised another of his mechanic tendrils holding him at bay. He had taken the face of the Omnicopaeia between his hands and he had sang in the martian lingua-technis.

" _Wake, and lift up thyself, machine, and with the cogitators bear thy part, who all night long unwearied sing high praise to the eternal Omnissiah._ "

With a purr the adjutant had awoken to life. His response clear as day.

"Acknowledged."

**≡][≡**

Inquisitor Halwinnit Kayleck had seen many xenos in her career. But the fact that a creature could become a navigator was well beyond her past experiences. She had almost breathed relieve when the beast had run, chased away by Brother - Captain Ran – Aldib. Like that single xenos the rest of them had also broken.

It was a human victory, Kayleck didn't dare to call it imperial knowing full well how close they had been to destruction hadn't it been for the terran aid. The battle's end had an unexpected effect on the men, as the zerg ran away the terrans and imperials starting eying each other warily, as if treason was to be expected but too tired to follow through.

Many things had changed during the battle. They had fought for their lives side by side, and that builds trusts. The Inquisitor new that full well. The Scavenger wasn't anywhere to be found, it had wormed away during the fight, and the mercenary leaders were in it for the money, as such they were a lot more reasonable. The Confessor had also done a great job, maybe she didn't like the man, but she had kept the terran battle line from breaking in a manner that would make any commissar proud. The Confessor had also had the skill to gather the leaderless and give them purpose. As such know he had a flock of men, loyal to the imperial faith, but first to him. Fortunately for her, the astartes had unwittingly cemented the loyalty of some of the mercenary groups, by saving their leaders on camera.

The imperial and terran lines where starting to blur.

While the remaining medics, terran and imperial, tended the wounded that could be saved she reunited herself with the Confessor, and the different terran mercenary commanders.

"Gentlemen. It appears that we have a bigger fish to fry, or a bigger fish trying to fry us. With that in mind, seeing the success of our conjoint operation, I would like to reach an understanding."

"Don't get me wrong, you fight like crazy mother fuckers, but how much of an understanding are we speaking of? And for how long? We all want to get out of this damned planet, but where to after it might be a tad expensive."

The Death Head had spoken loud and clear, and the Inquisitor saw nods among several of the mercenaries.

"I'm going to Terra."

The Confessor voice loomed in the room, not admitting retort. That wasn't the plan, they were supposed to go back to where they had come from. If the Magos was right, and to her chagrin he was always right, the technology that they had uncovered could greatly help the Imperium.

"I'm going to Terra and I'll plea to the God Emperor to listen to what is to come, that is what the Imperial Truth demands of me. You will follow, a God can be most generous."

She saw the ripples of faith wave through the gathered men. How much can a god pay? They had seen the Space Marines, they had seen the Inquisitorial Black Ship, both were the Emperor's will made manifests. Both dwarfed them. What would the God Emperor do to them?

For an instant the Inquisitor visualized a different future. A future where there had been no Dark Age of Technology. A future where the God Emperor guided humanity in the Crusade with the foreknowledge of who would turn traitor. A future perfect. But it wasn't her future. It wasn't her past either. It would be a perfect Imperium, but not the one she had sworn to protect.

What could she do? Without a Navigator there wasn't a chance to rekindle the path through the warp, towards the Astronomican. Their Navis Nobilite had been killed during the Zerg attack constraining them.

There was ghost of a miracle, a chance so small that it hurt to consider it. Speaking it aloud might just make the idea disappear, dust it away. Still she was Alien Hunter and it was her duty. She spoke.

"My duty is to the Imperium, I'm going back. We are going to need a Navigator." As she spoke the idea was forming, gaining substance. "We don't have one, ours is dead. But those Zerg... Those Zerg have one. The Scavenger had technology that could push them under control, I know, he said so. That's what he used to keep them out of his walls and his ship. We are going to get the Navigator, strap him to the Ollanius' Revenge's hull if need be and go back. It's duty. Whoever helps will have my thanks and the appreciation of the Inquisition."

Silence made itself known in the room.

"You propose a fool plan. With almost nil chances of success." Commander Sertes, who had been the de facto voice for most of the mercs with the Scavenger's disappearance broke the silence. "Requiring that we go back to the Zerg and fight them. To get one of them that is capable of pulling our souls out, and after that use it along with experimental technology to guide us to a far future where there is only war? And that is the alternative to just reporting to a living God of omnipotent power, who happens to reside in this universe and time, who could reward us with everything we could fathom to desire?"

"Yes."

"Oh, great, just making sure. Thank your Emperor that I'm an agnostic then. I'm going with you."

**≡][≡**

The medicae deck was filled to the brim with wounded, both Terran and Imperial, while the medics of both human groups tended the wounded. They were all human after all, and it is in humanity's nature to help each other.

Knowing that it wouldn't be good for morale to be seen wounded, or perhaps just feeling the painful differences between their abhuman physiology and that of their most common kind, the astartes had retreated to the Pharmacy.

Brother Caleb, the Apothecary, had made his sancta sanctorum there. And as it befits a Guardian of the Covenant it was a place of clean and orderly knowledge. It was filled with a non invasive smell of chloride, books and dataslates of anatomy and healing, and the wounded space marines recovering from the previous battle.

"There doesn't appear to be any ill effects. Other than the slight change in coloration of your right eye which is probably due to an overdose of the drug and should disappear with time. Your mental capabilities are intact, maybe even better than they were, and it has clearly increased the healing rate on your face's left side."

Caleb approached a mirror to Mihai. He raised it towards his head and studied the image in it. His left side had healed completely, covering in skin the burned absence. The new skin was smooth, unscratched an had a contrasting paleness with the rest of his face. The eeriest thing was that it had covered completely his missing eye socket, as if it had never existed in the first place. His remaining eye had been changed. His sclera, iris, and pupil were now indistinct. His eye was just a uniform dark blue orb.

"Your gene marker samples don't show any degradation. In fact there is a slight improvement, which is probably due to statistical error. We will be more certain in four days when the full analysis is finished. How do you feel?"

Mihai looked at his brother, and then at his brothers. Accipiter had just returned and had spoken little. Aggrippa, to whom the Blood Raven felt more kinship gave him a dry smile and a simple nod. Ran – Aldib, whom Mihai admired, had his eyes closed resting as a servitor's long fingers stitched the holes in his chest. Baldassare was deeply enclosed in his suspended animation membrane, a comma enforced in the Lamenter to keep him from battle so he could rest and his wounds healed. Caleb, whose wounds were barely patched, looked at him with a mixture of scholar's curiosity and heartfelt worry. Mihai was amongst a brotherhood, they weren't Blood Ravens, but he had fought with them side by side.

"I'm well apothecary. Better than I've ever been."

Caleb nodded.

"The Magos has been busy with the recovered archeo tech, but he has had enough time to gift us with a recording from the incident. Several non astartes died when in contact with the drug. I've got reports from the Terran medics that the compound is known as Terrazine, and it can help with brain damage but it can also induce hallucinations. Or it can even enhance psyker powers. Does this sound right? What did you see?"

Mihai was amongst brothers, it pained him to hide truth from them. It pained him not to tell them what he now knew. He wanted to discard it as a mere figment, a construct of the mind, an hallucination. But he knew. And knowledge is power. He was to guard it well.

"It has apparently helped me heal. My face is healed. My... powers... I'm sorry apothecary, what I saw is complicated to describe. It was, a rush of sensation." After a sigh the Blood Raven added. "Or an hallucination, it is hard to tell."

The lie was told. Mihai saw a note of blue shimmering in Caleb's aura. Trust. The lie was accepted. It pained him.

"Caleb, do you think it can help Baldassare?" The Captain spoke softly with his eyes still closed. "His mind seems damaged and in much need of repairing. If that substance can do what the Terrans claim..."

"We will need a large quantity. And the gas is short lived, we would need to find some."

"Then it is a good thing that I saw a purple cloud in the distance while it was out there. It looked like a refinery."

All the astartes in the room, that were conscious and capable of doing so, looked at the Raptor scout. There was a cold grin in Accipiter's face. The Deathwatch members simply nodded in understanding. They would heal the Lamenter's ailment.

**≡][≡**

It had been the roughest landing he had ever witnessed. He had certainly never seen one from such a short distance and he didn't want to repeat the experience. Alan Schezar, the Scavenger, was above all a survivalist. He had survived certain death more times than one could count. In fact he had survived more times than he had had a good drink, and he loved good drinks. This one almost got him though.

His Vulture had suddenly shrieked with a shrill of shredded metal. That had been his only warning. He had jumped from the craft at top speed, trying to free his legs from the security straps as he moved. His right leg was fine. His left one...

The Vulture had collapsed unto itself, as if a giant invisible hand had taken the vehicle and smashed it into a ball before tossing it away. His left leg had still been united to the craft then. It hadn't been pretty. He had injected himself with an stim pack, his hands trembling so hard due to the pain that he had torn his skin with the needle. When the adrenaline had taken over, dulling the edges of pain, he had raised an impaler. He had few bullets and had wasted two of them severing his leg, discarding it like a rabid beast who tears its own limb to escape a trap. He had crawled out of certain death.

They had found him there. The zerglings. It had been easy to subvert their minds. The khaydarin device, enhanced with what he had taken from the UED had always been in his person. It was his trump card, his ace in the hole. He had seen them leaderless, without purpose and he had taken them. BF 1138 should be nearby, if he could reach it he was certain that he could hijack a Dominion vessel and escape off planet. But for that he would need a distraction, the damn protoss had taken over the refinery when the Dominion had left, and zerg make the best of distractions. He injected himself another stim pack, and riding the rush of power he started to limp, aided by a zergling, towards the zerg mass.

If he could find the broodmother's body he was certain that he would be able to replicate her brain patterns with the device and control the zerg. Then he would direct them towards the refinery, and search for anything capable of going out of Mar Sara.

As he approached his target the Zerg concentration augmented, as if they had gathered to mourn the passing of their leader. When he reached the center he realized two things. The first, most simple of all, was that the Zerg weren't mourning, but kneeling in recognition of a new leader. The second one, hit him like a truck, making his head spin. He was, after all, going to die.

Marcius Velonious hadn't had many reasons to like the Scavenger in life, and certainly he didn't like him better in death. It held Schezar by his neck, raising him in the air, looking at him with cold dead eyes. The Scavenger couldn't shout, air didn't pass through his trachea, he only contemplated with horror the creature's hand. Not the one around his neck. Nor the one at his side, limp and pale. No, he observed in enforced mute horror the mutated hand in the Rogue Trader's chest, the one that held its heart and ensured that it pumped vitae through the body in a rough mockery of life. The thing slowly released its prey, one by one the clawed scaly fingers let go. The grip in his neck didn't filch at the contrary it became stronger forcing his jaw open in silent pain. The thing that had taken residence in Velonious' chest discarded the heart and moved. It move fast, coiling in its wake tentacles of elongated mass, a grisly reminder of human veins and nerves. It slithered along the arm that held Schezar in place, and it jumped inside the Scavenger's mouth.

He fell to the ground. His hands darting towards his neck trying to hold the beast at bay without success. He trembled like a fish out of water as the new resident adjusted to its body. Tentacles and tendrils, dug on his flesh, carving a way through every muscle. His missing leg opened like a flower, as a long meaty rope reached towards the body of the fallen Rogue Trader, cutting a replacement and stitching it into place. He wanted to scream, his mouth opened, but all the sound that came from him was.

"I am Zerg."

In horror the personality that had pertained to Allan Schezar was soon erased. His thoughts and memories devoured. The last thing he felt was a warming fondness, a satisfaction, he remembered where the Terrazine was. He was going there. Where he wanted. Home.

**≡][≡**

Doctor Wei-Hsai finished the adjutant's connection and installation in silence. He had been marveled by Dregmeck's skill at reprogramming the machine, turning it to his side with only chanting, essential oils and incense. He didn't dare believe in the Machine Spirit, but he had to concede the Magos a point, or several, for he had been able to surprise him. Greatly.

He had suspected that the Scavenger held a pre Confederacy adjutant, many of his technological wonders couldn't be explained otherwise, but didn't expect such an old model. The thing was probably one of the oldest kind from when they were still cybernetic. The technological wonders it held, unlocked by the Magos chanting and rituals, were beyond his wildest imaginations. The Scavengers had surely stolen many wonders in their years. The thing held templates ranging from the oldest pre confederacy lemon chicken recipe to the latest secret Umojan armor. Wei-Hsai couldn't help but to marvel in expectancy, waiting for the Magos to unravel the computer's mysteries.

"How do you do, Omnicopaeia?"

"Adjutant Online. Everything is operative my Magos. The sensors detect an old intelligence. To what has this unit been connected?"

The doctor had never seen an adjutant speak like that, of course he had neither seen someone speak with such arcane reverence to one.

"You are in the Cogitator room of the Ollanius' Revenge. It is an old ship, pre Heresy. Its Machine Spirit is strong."

"Acknowledged. Is it hostile?"

"It is not. He is ancient though, and has a liking to travel to the unexplored and uncharted. I'm sure that the Ollanius will be most curious about your knowledge. Allow him access and I'm sure you will get along."

"Acknowledged. Please stand by."

Wei-Hsai couldn't really explain what happened next. If at a later point of his life he found himself in a psychiatrist care the best approximation would be that the ship purred. The adjutant almost giggled for a second. But the doctor reminded himself that spacecrafts don't purr and computer's don't giggle.

"Data transfer in process. Please stand by. Magos this unit has been successfully connected to the auspex arrays."

The magos gave a dry nod. The Inquisitor had tasked him with finding the run away zerg, if they could locate them there was a chance of going back. That's what she had said. And the doctor knew that the adjutant had enough computing power to locate them, if its sensors where connected to the ship. After the Scavenger's disappearance he casted his luck with the Imperials, at least Dregmeck had his respect.

"Locate zerg organisms in proximity."

The adjutant's eyes flickered, as if reading an invisible text really fast. Suddenly they halted and shone with a purplish haze.

"Vespene Refinery BF 1138, is under heavy Zerg attack. Transferring locations."

**≡][≡**

The old terran alarms wailed. The protoss alarms rang in her mind. Somehow the Zerg had found the place. The Zealots had marched to war. With them had advanced the Immortals focused on protecting their kind. Knowing full well that the Zerg were at their doorstep, and there was no retreat.

The room had at one point served as the refinery's control room. The doors were sealed from inside. It was now filled with damaged protoss veterans, those whose wounds were to severe to recover and go back to active duty. There they were interred in a sarcophagus of khaydarin crystal, with terrazine clouds keeping their minds alive well beyond the possible. That would have given them a chance to go back, to fight, to protect, as immortals. Now it was pointless. The Zerg were at the doors.

They were dying. Talrisis heard the agonizing psy screams of the Zealots and thanked once again not to be of the Khala. She held the broken body of the Tribe Leader, his mind drifted feeling the backlash of those dying around him.

Talrisis knelt besides him. Her brow pressed against his. He felt the voice, the voice that had accompanied her since she had reached for the eldar jewel. The voice wasn't scared, it encouraged her, to fight, to fight to the last breath. To avenge him.

With clear purpose she pressed herself against the Tribe Leader. She for an instant felt a tight connection, trying to rob her of her sense of self. At first she fought it, but when the doors started to cave in she let it go. She felt how her body, started to wane and disappear turning into pure void energy, in her arms the protoss body also lightened as it turned itself into psychic energy. Around her neck, the eldar talisman shone brighter with a warm red light.

As the doors fell and the Zerg came in Talrisis, the Dark Templar, ceased to be.

**≡][≡**


	12. The breath of Creation

≡ **][≡**

The memories of Velonius and Schezar flashed in his Zerg mind. Many don't associate the Zerg with intelligence, believing them to be creatures of pure base instinct. They might not be entirely wrong, but there is a savage cunning to their tactics. He might as well be some kind of an anomaly, like an Infested that retained some of its earlier intelligence.

Broodfather. That's what he is. A good name. As good as any. Velonius' personality is all but consumed, Schezar's mind is virtually his. Broodfather. That's what he is.

He feels. He feels the Swarm. He sees the Swarm. He sees  _through_  the Swarm. As the Zergling rush inside he studies them through the Overseers. Resistance is futile. Yet resistance  _is_. Stalkers, Protoss walkers, attack the swarm in the lower levels trying to keep them from their brethren It is indeed futile.

He directs them he pushes them as his command. This is not a simple rush, no, there is tactics and strategy. Long term planning. His swarm is taking the foundry apart, capturing any Protoss tech in their way or the forgotten Terran machinery. He might be a Zerg, but both his fathers were traders, he understands the concept of leverage and his plans will require it.

There are so many Zerg. He can feel each and everyone of them, and he can feel them die, but there are so many... it almost takes effort to discern the individuals. For the first time the Broodfather commutes with the Swarm, as a whole organism it matter little that some Zerglings are dying. It is but a scratch.

≡ **][≡**

_War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength._

The inscription on the throne made little sense to him, it was clearly paradoxical, perhaps a metaphorical lie. The Koprulu sector was under constant duress, but to go as far as to call it peace. It sounded like something that Mengsk would say. He didn't like Mengsk.

"Do you like my ship, Captain?"

The woman was short, stocky, as if cast from a solid rock. Her body was chiseled and had a promise of most of the features that would make her an attractive female, even if those were well hidden under a military uniform. Captain Jackson had a consummate poker face, one learns to roll with the flow after serving as CO for the Duke's Revenge, but he was close to dropping it then and there. Another of the survival perks of the Duke's service is a knack for spotting ambushers, the woman had moved fast and silent. And while Terran ships are somehow dusty they don't suffer the disarray found in the imperial vessel. The woman had sneaked on him, masterfully.

"Your ship? I thought it was the Inquisitor's."

"I'm Captain Herdess, Imperial Navy, and while the Inquisitor commands me I command the ship. Am I understood?"

Oh, someone was in charge. Great. Then he wouldn't be the first target when the mutiny hits.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Call me Captain. You are quite an unusual one. You let your ship and crew go. I want to know why."

For a moment Captain Jackson wondered how anyone listening to them would understand who was talking if both were to call each other captain. Then he remembered that this was in fact not one of those space operas he liked to read.

"With all due respects Captain. My "crew" I would trade for a Popsicle stick, and consider the Popsicle a bonus. The Duke's Revenge has a reputation, and most COs don't last. I've been on the ship for longer than any of the previous Captains. I know what you are thinking, no, they weren't incompetent. It's just that the ship is blessed with a perchance for independence and self government. And when a mook doesn't take an order well, well, they know where you sleep."

"Discipline is the Emperor's blessing. I guess you don't know what a Commissar is. How did you survive?"

"Tricks of the trade."

Captain Herdess gave a dry, short smile. A smile that didn't transfer to her eyes. He kept his poker face.

"Okay, keep your secrets, but if you attempt something in my ship you will find out what the point end of a sword is for. Am I clear?"

"Crystal clear, Captain."

"Good. This ship is not under direct Imperial Navy command, as such there are times when we pass ourselves as other... more independent parties, your expertise may come in handy when that time arrives. I know that you were Captain of your own ship, but believe me that was barely the size of an escort. Being generous you would be a Commander under Navy protocol. I'm ascending you to Rear-Captain, welcome to the Ollanius."

She approached him and offered her hand. A hand that he quickly took and shacked. He didn't know what a Rear-Captain was supposed to do, but he will surely find out soon enough.

"This." Captain Herdess did a gesture towards a man, who Jackson could swear wasn't there an instant before. "is Bosun Vzglyad. We are a tad short on personal due to fighting of late, but he shall serve as your aidee. Vzglyad kinsmen have served in the Ollanius since it started flying, so he knows the ship as well as it gets. Learn the local dialect and idioms, where everything is and Imperial protocol." Then as far as he was concerned, she barked something in an incomprehensible and utterly alien language before adding. "You are dismissed."

Jackson followed the man through a corridor, not being able to take his eyes out of him. His family surely couldn't have served in the ship since it's beginning, the thing was old, older than the Duke's Revenge, it would have meant generations, heck the genealogy would be an interesting one. But it could help explain some traits of this... Jackson failed to even think of the name. Pronouncing it would be beyond the realm of the possible. He decided to just refer to it as aidee for now. Well, if Aidee's family had served inside the ship for generations it would explain the language, and his appearance. The man was pale beyond reason, not only his skin lacked pigmentation but also his eyes and hair, giving him an eerie albino appearance. There were several tattoos on his arms, but they were just straight lines circling around the forearm, some thicker than others, giving him what distinctively looked like a barcode.

"Aidee. Where are we going?"

The man stopped and looked at him barking in an unidentifiable language. There was hardness in his eyes as if he didn't like being interrupted. Well. That was going to be a problem. If Aidee and his cousins were touchy and knew the ship as well as promised holding a mutiny at bay would be... complicated.

For a moment Rear-Captain Jackson considered that perhaps the evil you know is preferable to the one you don't. For a moment Rear-Captain Jackson wished to be back at the Duke's Revenge bridge. Then he remembered his last experiences inside that damned vessel and rephrased his wish to never ever been interested in piloting a cruiser. When, as usual, his wish wasn't granted he decided to do best with what he had. There was work to do.

≡ **][≡**

The Zerg have taken the lower levels and the drones are gorging on the Terrazine source. There are so many of them that they bloat the conducts darkening the purplish mist. The Swarm is feeding. And as it does its many jaws keep going upwards.

Soon they bite something hard, something that proves too much. A large score of Zerg just cease existing. They were a second before, they are not anymore. The psychic backslash hits him. The Broodfather hard. But Schezar's borrowed lips curl up in a smile. It is just a flesh wound.

≡ **][≡**

"Baldassare, hold!"

The Brother – Captain voice didn't reach the Lamenter. His charge was unbroken. At least this time it was silent. His glaive moved fast, and struck true. It tore through the Zergling mass as a hot knife cuts butter. There was a strength in numbers and in the cramped corridors the Zerg mass seemed infinite.

Resigned the Kill – Team charged after his brother, resolute to not leave him behind.

≡ **][≡**

Talrisis had been an Oracle pilot. She had liked it. Hers had been a career that she had enjoyed. To properly pilot one the Nerazim need to truly understand time. It's shifts and changes. They needed to control it. Use it. When the paths opened to her she took that of the Witch, dreaming the Void. It was after all the most logical.

The Tribe Leader had been above all a crafter. While of late his craft had focused on the Immortals' creation he would have enjoyed a simpler life. The Path of the Artisan was his call. And he was finally able to follow it. He sang his joy.

He had died. As he had died he hadn't felt the call of She Who Thirst. His soul trapped for eternity in a stone, far from the infinity circuit. Eternity didn't last.

The being to be known as Khas was born there and then. At that moment, the few Protoss that remained conscious inside the Khaydarin tanks, to be latter embalmed into an Immortal or Stalker, recognized it as a Twillight Archon. It shone with the purple light of infused Terrazine and at its center a single purple jewel orbited in circles. The being to be known as Khas did something that no other Protoss, Archon or otherwise, had ever done before. It sang. It sang of the Khala and the Paths, it's song was at the same time known and alien, new and ancient. As it sang the Khaydarin resonated to its psychic tune, as it sang it took form and body. And that was the thing that no Protoss had done before for it solidified the psychic essence. It gave it matter.

The being to be known as Khas encased itself in Wraithbone and Khaydarin crystal, the finest Protoss armor tightly fitted across it's body. A body that was no more. The being to be known as Khas was just energy. A powerful torrent of psychic energy given will. But where other Archons were fated to eventually disipate and be forgotten in solidifying it had averted it's fate. The being to be known as Khas was now an armor, a sentient eternal armor forged by powerful psychic energy.

It stood tall and lithe. It's figure encased in white from head to toe. Khaydarin jewels, resonating with a purplish tint due to the Terrazine excess decorated its armor in classic protoss manner. Like most archons from its back four nerve cords extended coiling and tightening like living serpents. Its shoulders held high pauldrons, that seemed to extend backwards in a cape of psychic energy, only varely visible when it moved. Its helmet fully masked its features, organically joining with the rest of the armor in a crest that pointed upwards. Its arms ended in thick vambraces and armored hands with two fingers and two thumbs at either side. The being to be known as Khas had been reforged, recreated in a new form, a form beyond that of an Archon. The Protoss held legends of the Phoenix a powerful energy being created by the Xel'naga. The being to be known as Khas, even infused with Terrazine and the Eldar's knowledge was far from it. But the Phoenix legend kindled a spark, a memory, a knowledge that had been there all along.

The being to be known as Khas pointed one of its hands towards the Protoss inside their sarcophagus in the wall. The tools needed to continue their enhancement had been destroyed along with the laboratory. It lacked the tools to create an Immortal, it lacked the tools to create a Stalker. But he didn't lack the knowledge. In fact he knew much, much more. For the second time it sang. And the song was beautiful, a song that promised revenge and above all survival. They were tithed a second chance, a chance to sing the Khala once more. And they took it. Wraithbone started forming around them, giving them a second skin a new armor to fight once more. While their armor wasn't as ornate as that of the being to be known as Khas it followed it honored it's patterns. They looked as Zealots who had been fully encased themselves in white and crystal armor, even their nerve cords were armored forming two braids behind them. They had been awaiting a chance to fight again. They had taken it.

The Phoenix Lord to be known as Khas led those to be known as Exarchs of the Crystal Dragons back into the fight.

≡ **][≡**

The Confessor's black armor engraved with white bones and skulls is a figure of dread in the Battlecruiser bridge. The last person who dared disagree has been blammed and its body lies cold at his feet. The Duke's Revenge runs like a clock, never having been as efficient as it is now.

It soon reaches orbit, and the cogitators, the computers, initiate the warp jump protocols. As they do the man in black looks at the planet below. For an instant he wishes to be able to procure an Exterminatus, the rock is just filled with damned xenos and traitorous scum, both deserving destruction. But alas it is not the Emperor's will.

With a prayer to the God in the Golden Throne he urges his men forward. With a silent agreement the Duke's engines power up and catapult him among the stars. Towards Terra, humanity's crib. Towards the God Emperor, humanity's future.

He will change the future.

≡ **][≡**

The Zerg took a moment to react to what happened. For an instant Broodfather's control slipped and the aliens lunged into their more primal instincts. It didn't last long. When the creature that occupied Schezar's body got it's hand back in the leash it established it's control even harder than before. All the captured Protoss or Terran technology and the Drones with the Terrazine were to be driven back to the Leviathans. The rest were simply to charge towards the control room and obliterate the Protoss remains.

≡ **][≡**

The Kill – Team used the moment of respite, caused by the sudden diminish in Zerg forces attacking them, to check their ammunition and grenade reserves and patch each other up. Two brother's stood apart. Baldassare was silent, his hands tight on the glaive with resolute strength, his head bowed down as if in meditation or repentance. The Lamenter had charged fearlessly into the Zerg mass breaking them wherever he had met them. Mihai was also silent, but his hands were at his temples as if trying to ward himself from a paining sound only him could hear. Somehow he had been able to lead the squad across the alien mass striking true towards it's center.

"Ready?"

Brother – Captain Ran-Aldib sounded weary, tired. His Charnabal saber was at his side, its power field still strong keeping it clean from alien blood and acidic ichor, the Storm Shield was at his back, his hands otherwise occupied. He held a small device in his left, a black and unimpressive box, only marked with some runes, cables and the gliph of the Mentor's Owl. A Time Warper his squad had seen it in use in more than one occasion, a piece of tech from unknown origin that somehow the Mechanicus had loaned the Mentors and that Ran-Aldib had taken with him on his Vigil. His right was occupied now by a Mentor's bolt gun, a weapon of renowned accuracy, fully loaded in tranquilizing drugs that should force a hold in the xenos prey.

Agrippa gave a dry nod. He held a bolter in one hand, the new synthetic arm being strong enough to compensate for the recoil, in his other hand he had a Terran riot shield which was dented and chiseled where the Zerg mass had tried to bite through. Accipiter crossed his shotguns across his chest, both had seen good use in the melee against the Zerg. Caleb, the apothecary, restarted his chain sword making it purr the Emperor's prayers. When Mihai gave a nod and his grip tightened on the bolter and Baldassare started walking the corridor the Mentor knew that the squad was ready.

"For the Emperor!"

The space marines charged with the Emperor's name in their lungs and His fury in their hearts.

≡ **][≡**

There is perhaps a simplicity in numbers. A quality in quantity. The Zerg knew that well. They hadn't encountered that particular breed of Protoss before but they would overwhelm them. Eventually. Broodfather didn't mind sacrificing his troops, he had reserves to spare, but even he had to admit that the combat wasn't going well.

The Protoss fought masterfully, dividing the Zerg using shields, sometimes in a bloody literal manner, and fighting them a few at a time. Whenever the swarm would charge one of those white Protoss would come towards them raise his hands and an incredibly hardened shield will materialize cutting the advance. Then some other Protoss would create blades of pure warp energy and cut the Zerg to shreds in fast movements. It appeared that with sufficient strength the shields would break, but as one fell another one was raised.

The combat eventually reached a stalemate. The Zerg couldn't overwhelm the Protoss unless those made a stupid move, that they didn't seem inclined to take. Yet not all the room was under the control of the lithe Crystal Dragons nor all the entombed in Khaydarin to be turned into an Immortal had been recovered and donned with wraithbone. It was those that Broodfather attacked next.

As the Zerg took the crystals containing Protoss remains the creature at the center of the Protoss battle line charged. The Phoenix Lord was strong beyond reason, his shields forming and reforming slicing the Zerg in their wake at the same time that they blocked the Zerg retaliation. Many organisms pushed their luck, charging blindly only to be turned to shreds.

" _We are as one! For Khaine and the Khala!"_

The Eldar battle cry resounded in the Zerg minds to simple to feel dread as the Phoenix Lord charged the Broodfather. The Broodfather had a strong mind, and a strong will, it could control the Zerg and move them at his whim. The Zerg were his claws and jaws, he didn't hold a chance. A shield sliced his forearms and as they fell they slithered like snakes ready to strike. Snakes that were swiftly burnt away in a psychic fire. It was an uneven fight, the Zerg organism was pushed back, to the edge, sliced faster than it could regenerate.

The Broodfather had been no fighter, in all his past lives he had preferred cunning and intellect to defeat the enemy. And as he realized that he pushed his mind to exertion, desperately trying to survive. In his frenzy the Zerg jumped all at once to the Crystal Dragons and their shields, hitting with such numbers and strength that they pushed them back. While the Protoss leader was ending his physical vessel the swarm was stomping the followers.

Destroying his adversary in a cutting shield the Phoenix Lord turned to save his Exarchs realizing that an uncountable mass of Zerg stood in his way. Not even him was fast enough.

It was then, when the Aspect Shrine was almost destroyed instants before its creation that salvation come in the form of six space marines. Each wore the black armor of the Deathwatch and moved faster than time itself, it seemed that for them the battle had all but slowed to turtle's pace. At their head rushing in a boundless fit of rage the Lamenter held his power spear, impaling any Zerg that stood in it's way.

"For the Angel's Blood! For the Emperor's Throne!"

The rest of his squad followed with similar battle cries. They were unstoppable. Their target was a massive Zerg beast. It resembled a Zergling if those could be the size of a small tank, in it's head laid a black orb that seemed to keep at bay the other organisms. The primal, who had unimaginatively dubbed himself Black Eye, braced for the charge directing it's gaze to the Lamenter.

Mihai's sixth sense could feel all to well what was happening. He could feel the matterium shriek and tore into Baldassare's psyche, draining his mind presence and draining his soul. It didn't stop him. It only enraged him more.

"Suffer not the Alien to live!"

With those words the spear lunged forward, forcing the alien to duck at the last instant. Baldassare had missed the black orb but his strike had gorged the natural eyes of the beast that now trashed wildly in a maddened rush.

The alien hunters started doing what they do best, killing the Zerg in scores. They provided a breathing room for Baldassare, tasked in his particular due, and the Captain that was now aiming his bolter at the beast. Two rounds, two hits. The creature though didn't show a sign of slowing down, it's shoulder claw almost slashing through the Lamenter. Another shot, and a fourth, a fifth, no reaction. The monster was adapting to the toxic agent much faster than anticipated.

"Change of plans, extermination!"

With those words he drew the Charnabal saber and holding it with both hands charged forward. The rest of the squad followed suit concentrating fire in the trashing beast. So righteous was their fury that they soon pushed it back. And it moved fast. It trashed, cutting a path through the Zerg organisms that assaulted the Kill – Team slowing them down.

The creature, Black Eye, had never lost before. In occasions it had moved in different directions, pledging to evolve and become stronger. This was such an event. He would come back. Fight them. Devour their essence and their souls.

As the Primal run a small Zerg organism, barely the size of a human forearm and a with a distinctive shape resembling one held onto it.

≡ **][≡**

" _Lower your weapon, Brother – Captain."_

He did not.

" _There are no more Zerg to fight, Mon – keigh. Lower your weapon."_

That shocked him a little. It sounded condescending enough to be Eldar.

"What did you call me xeno?"

" _Mon – keigh. I fought with yours not that long ago, I don't want to fight you now."_

"I saw you die, Eldar."

" _I'm glad to know that your lack of perception isn't as bad as I thought. Now, we outnumber you Mon – keigh, and you are tired. I'm sure you can also perceive that. We thank you for your aid. Now, lower your weapon."_

Reluctantly he lowered his saber and looked around himself. The Zerg were dead. Scoured. His squad was barely standing, only now lowering their weapons and allowing themselves a moment of respite. As Baldassare did so he felt to the ground as a rag doll, his soul expended, Brother – Apothecary Caleb knelt besides him, but his expression was dour and grim even behind his visor.

"We've failed our mission."

" _What mission?"_

"We were to retrieve the xenos who assimilated the navigator, and secure some Terrazine for Baldassare."

" _Before I died I offered my services to the Inquisitor."_

"What does that matter now?"

" _Well. Does the Inquisitor still have a ship?"_

"We won't be able to fly without a Navigator, Xenos. You know that full well."

" _That's where you are wrong Mon – Keigh. The Eldar don't use navigators. The Protoss don't use navigators. I have flied Oracles and I will Dream the Void for you if you are to honor your Inquisitor's agreement."_

For a moment no one breathed in the room. Then Ran-Aldib gave one short nod.

"We serve the Inquisitor, if we were willing to use a Xenos to return to the Imperium I don't see what problem there is with the creature guiding us willingly."

" _Good thing Mon – Keigh."_  The Phoenix Lord knelt besides the fallen body of Baldassare.  _"As for your brother, fear not. I'll give him the breath of creation."_  He then exhaled a single purple breath in the Lamenter's black helm.

≡ **][≡**

_He stood against the stone wall. His spear was broken. His bolter was silent. There were no brothers besides him. Only the Rage, the Rage and the Thirst. Broken things. Poor Broken things. They were dead, all of them. Yet they fought. They fought demons and things worse than demons. They fought the enemy without and the enemy within. For the enemy was within each and all of them._

_He stood against the stone wall. At his back he could hear it break, slowly grinded to pieces by an monster that was even worse that the one in front of them. He punched a monster, one of the Enemy, just before kicking one of his own. Keeping them pointed towards the Enemy was hard enough._

_He stood against the stone wall. He could feel the claws opening it as if it was a door. Golden and bloodied the talons came from him. They were the pinions of an angle of battle. In another time the monster would have been revered by his brothers. But he had no more brothers. They had fallen. Dead. Only the Thirst and the Rage remained._

_He stood against the stone wall. And as he pushed the demons and monsters back with his bare raw hands the Golden Angel claws tore into him. The creature's face was a mask of Golden perfection in mortuary the image of the Primarch but when it fell it revealed the truth. The bare and primal truth. His revelation didn't last. There was a little mercy still in the Universe. He died then. With the fangs of the Golden Angel draining his vitae._

≡ **][≡**

"You are conscious again. That is good. Are you... yourself?"

Baldassare looked around. He was in the medicae docks. His ceramite armor replaced with a black tunic that felt eerily wet. The apothecary looked at him with a tired smile. Somehow he remembered. He knew what had happened what was real. He had fought the Zerg. He had charged against them. And for an instant lost himself, as if he was aboard the Vengenful Spirit in one last fateless charge. That was an old memory. It had happened a long time ago. He was certain of that. As certain as he was that the last memory he had had was of something that hadn't happened yet. He raised a hand to his neck. There were no marks. His death hadn't happened yet.

"Aye. I am myself brother. I'm sorry for troubling you."

"Good. We are going to make warp jump in half an hour if you want to say Goodbye to this rock now is the time."

"Where are we going?"

"Here. I hope. A better question might be when are we going."

"When are we going?"

"To the 41st millenium brother. We are going home."

≡ **][≡**

Calling the whole ordeal a failure wasn't fair. In fact by all recognitions Broodfather could account the attack as a success. They had captured Protoss and Terran technology, and more importantly they had gorged in Terrazine. Then if they had met the objectives why did it felt like a defeat?

He didn't know.

He knew one thing. His hand would still guide the Zerg to the future. To a new future. A future where there were more creatures to devour and assimilate into the swarm. And they would follow. In less than thirty minutes the Leviathans would be fully fueled and stocked ready to initiate the travel. Black Eye would guide them, towards the light of the Emperor a beacon hard to miss and the promise of endless evolution.

He had time. Plenty of time. With an almost unconscious though he went to the lower decks where the captured human cattle awaited infestion. He approached one of them and cut his way into him. Then once again walking in human legs he went to the bridge, ready to order the advance like he had done many times in his previous lives. Unconsciously, he altered his new host guise to resemble the last, picking on the features of Schezar.

It seemed that the Scavenger's immortality wasn't unfounded.

≡ **][≡**


	13. Second star to the right

≡ **][≡**

"'Ere we go, 'ere we go..."

The red robed priest chanted happily. It was a march song that he had learned in a dusty desert planet. He had spent many days under the piramids, looking for bits and scraps. When he was still young and unaugmented. Now, with the Ollanius readying to jump to the warp it was oddly fitting.

His mechadentrite extended and his new found assistant passed him a plasma cutter. The jokaero, who many would think it was just his pet, signaled precisely the point in which he needed to cut. He did so while intoning the litany of maintenance. It felt great to be able once again to experiment. To bang two technological wonders against each other and wondering what might come up. The martian priesthood kept innovation at bay. One doesn't tamper with technology from the age of strife. In his earliest years he had discovered that when a las energy cell had exploded taking one of his hands with it. This technology was from before then, from the age of Terra. It held the wisdom of the ancients inside them. And the ancients had suggested to try and apply the forty fist millenium military technology to their own weapons. Once finished he held the weapon at the end of one of his new mechadentrites. He did so with great care, as a father holding his child for the first time. It was a big pistol a long barreled gun that would be too heavy for a normal human. He chanted praises to the Omnissiah, three times and revised all the steps from the litanies of safety. Once satisfied he said, as to no one.

"Yamato pattern gun first trial. Initiate recording. Open shooting range."

Doctor Wei-Hsai would have never believed that a yamato cannon could be miniaturized into a hand held device. A month before he would have doubted that even the best Umojan scientist had dreamed of fitting a yamato cannon in a tank. Much less a rifle, a gun. A pistol? He would have considered such thing a fool's errand. Now he had seen things that were beyond his craziest dreams. Imperials had hand held laser weapons. They had power armor much more advanced that they had and their ship was vast.

"Recording"

The adjutant, or as the magos called it Omnicopaeia, made it's eyes glow fixhating in the magos figure. The Jokaero and doctor stepped back. A panel at the side of the ship cleaked open revealing the exterior. They had prepared it before hand, the range had been calculated. The target a damaged CMC had been blessed and anointed with sacred oils.

"Firing in 3, 2... 1."

It all happened so fast that they didn't have time to see what happened. A blinding flash and everything was over. The spot where the CMC armor was scorched, a pool of blackened metal. The gun had fared little better. It had simply disappeared the tip of the mechadentrite was a mangled torn of metal. The metal a new terran alloy started repairing itself.

"We will need to adjust the weapon integrity, and reduce the potency otherwise it would be nonviable. Omnicopaeia examine all the possibilities and propose three models. We will continue working on the design tomorrow once all the scraps are recovered, blessed and properly disposed."

Wei-Hsai raised his hand to close his unhinged jaw. The maddened red priest had made a working particle gun. Of course, it had fired only once, but it had... fired. He had heard rumors among the crew, saying that the ape was a technological genius but seeing with his own eyes what they were capable of pulling was just crazy. Awesome but crazy.

≡ **][≡**

"Agent X44802K I'm glad you decided to join me."

The Inquisitor was back at her chambers. She wore a navy uniform, old and used, it wore no mark other than the imperial eagle. No medal or symbol of rank. Whenever she had had to pass herself as a crew member that had been her attire. Now, wearing it aboard the Ollanius' Revenge it felt like being back at a simpler time. Dinner was an added benefit. Mr Underhill had made an expedition to the deepest of the pantry in order to celebrate the coming departure. She didn't even remember having authorized the requisition of Pundi rice. Knowing the cook she probably hadn't but was glad that the ratling chef had acquired such a delicacy. The rice was amply seasoned accompanied with a selection of meats, seafood and vegetables that where admirably fresh. A side dish of Paradan melon and cured meat complemented the main course. It was all washed down with clear Zincal cold almost to the point of being iced.

"Aria Deladrier, please. I'm no agent anymore."

Her companion was dressed in plain guard fatigues. She had taken the clothes from the Inquisitor's closet, it was lucky that they had a similar size. Hayleck didn't know much of the woman. But she had done two things that she could appreciate. She had taken military fatigues over any fancy dress, she liked people that kept things simple. She had also chosen to stay with the Ollanius instead of departing to Terra. She could use a psyker with assassin and sniper training. Even if she was unsanctioned. The Inquisition had done so before, recruiting rogue elements into their midst.

"Call me Halwinnit, or Hal, then. Have you tried the rice?" The inquisitor spooned some of it mixed with a piece of river crab and guided it to her mouth. She smiled with delight at the taste. "It brings me memories."

She let the woman, the agent, enjoy the dish. There is some joy in letting others sample the food of one's people. Seeing them tasting it for the first time. Seeing how their faces changed as they discovered the notes in the plate. Observing was one of the inquisitor's guilty pleasure, a pleasure that gave her an edge when it came to acquiring information.

"Do you remember your homeworld Aria?"

She tilted her head slowly in a negative. If she felt any displeasure she hide it behind a fork filled with yellowed rice and a bright green bean. Had someone unaware of their rank and status seen hem he might have taken them for two friends from different branches of the imperium's military sharing a meal. Perhaps the fine quality of the food might have unveiled the ruse. But both were consummated actresses upholding the friendly officer part.

"I was raised in Tarsonis. Lovely planet, we had some rice there too. Ours was more spicy." She enjoyed some of her food. "Before that, I don't know. Standard ghost academy protocol, memory wipe and resoc. Now that I think about it I didn't thank you for giving me my codes, most people only get me flowers."

Halwinnit Kayleck didn't have a mental image in which Aria Deladrier had a sense of humor. There hadn't been a previous indication. The idea of flowers though fit her, she was attractive.

"I'm not a fan of spicy. That ghost academy sounds a lot like the schola. Mindscaping is a pain, but I can understand why it is done. It forces the recruits to leave their lives behind, equalizing them and easing the bonding between them. Of course it is also used to instill a rightful fear and trust in the God Emperor."

While the ghost didn't as much as look up from her plate as she listened and ate silently. When she raised her eyes towards the inquisitor there was a hard steel in them.

"Do you sanction the erasure of memories and the practices of the ghost academy?"

"No. I understand them, they make good soldiers. You are a good soldier Aria. But it is an unnecessary waste. The Schola Progenium, though is a necessary evil."

The ghost hand closing around the silvered knife didn't escape the inquisitor's gaze.

"Why so?"

The steel wasn't only in her eyes this time, her hand and voice were charged with dire intent. The inquisitor sighted. Raised her hands slowly showing the empty palms in a sign of submission.

"The emperor Mengsk" She almost spat the word emperor, and Deladrier could almost see how she lower cased it. "seems more worried with staying in power than with the survival of humanity. He wastes you. He sees ghosts as a mere tool used in more cases to keep himself in power than to protect people. The Imperium sacrifices, and schola training, is necessary for survival."

The woman moved so fast that she couldn't be avoided. Her lithe build was sprung into action both with mental and physical strength. The ghost was atop the inquisitor, a knife pressed hard against the neck. A single tear of blood shed against silver.

"I'm not a soldier, I'm a weapon. Nothing justifies mind rapping children. Nothing. I thought you were different, you gave me back my freedom. And just for that I haven't killed you yet."

The easiest way of getting out of here would be to simply activate the digital weapon in her ring. Hitting the woman with the strength of a laser cannon at close range would vaporize her before she had even time to press with the dinner knife. That though would lose her a necessary psyker. As if the ghost was reading her mind, the blade in her neck presser harder. The inquisitor only smiled.

"You haven't killed me yet because you look at me and my memories. You know I myself went through the schola. You know my past. My parents were killed in a coup by a petty governor jealous of their luck. The schola took me in. Yes, the lessons were hard. For the God Emperor's sake, you've probably seen my trial of compliance. And it was worse than yours. You know that. You know we are worse than you are. And you know why you haven't killed me."

The knife pressed but didn't cut through.

"I haven't killed you because you have a weapon in your finger capable of vaporizing me before I shiv you."

"No. You said it yourself. You are a weapon, not a soldier. A weapon isn't scared to die. You are not scared to die. You aren't killing me because you have seen it in my mind. The Imperium doesn't fight a petty war, we fight for the survival of humanity as a species. And we need you."

The knife left her throat. Blood ran tinting red the navy uniform's collar. Both women breathed heavily, panting exhausted after the encounter they had shared. For an instant they just looked at each other, seeing themselves as if for the first time. Aria Deladrier, ex-agent X44802K was the one to move. She stood up and gave a hand to Inquisitor Kalwinnit Hayleck that took it and allowed herself to be raised back into her feet. The ghost pressed a napkin against the wound, dressing it and stopping the bleeding. The intimacy of the moment didn't escape either.

"I ruined the dinner. I am sorry."

Both platters of food had fallen to the ground, the rice and condiments scattered in a kaleidoscopic mess. A servitor would expend a long time cleaning it. Later.

"Yes. Mr. Underhill won't like it."

"At least there is still the wine"

"What's the plan now?"

The inquisitor pushed herself from under the ghost. Her hand reached for the wine bottle, which she uncorked without thought and gave a long bountiful drink. The taste when she felt it, was fruity, fresh, slightly salty and strong. Warmness filled her making her forget the cut on her neck. She passed the bottle alone.

"We enjoy the bottle of wine."

"I can live with that. After that?"

"You will accept my offer."

The ghost didn't talk for a moment concentrated on drinking. The alcohol was a new taste for her. While most vintages were renowned for their age it was hard to ascertain how good was something more than thirty thousand years before it was corked. Heck the particular grape from which the wine had been fermented might not even exist yet. Let it be known that she liked the beverage none the less.

"I will? I guess I will."

"Aria Deladrier you shall hereby be known as Interrogator Deladrier of the Ordo Xenos. As long as you use your skills to the betterment of the Imperium and following my orders you will be safe of any reprisal. You are now sanctioned by my authority."

"What are we going to do now? Celebration party?"

The woman passed the bottle of wine back, it was certainly much lighter.

"There is much to be done. You will have to familiarize yourself with imperial culture and creed. First of all..."

The inquisitor searched her bookshelves for some old data folders. The ones she picked had faded buttons and markers, the old glyphs were now barely visible, yet when she tampered them they purred back to life with the sound of well maintained use.

"Here. These are the earlier deeds of Ciaphas Cain, HERO OF THE IMPERIUM, collected by Amberley Vail of the Ordo; and the memories of Eisenhorn. Both dataslates are encrypted, differently and in high gothic, which I assume you are not familiar with. Your first task is to read them. Learn from them. Understood?"

"You want me to read history books?"

"Actually calling them history might be inaccurate, but yes. Reading should give you a good grasp of how our universe works. There are more from where those two came from, and in a far much less novelized form."

"So... how do I unencrypt them?"

"That is for you to figure on your own."

The ghost sighted and finished the bottle of wine before starting to tamper with the machines. It was going to be a long flight.

≡ **][≡**

"Captain all systems blessed and on-line. We are ready for lifting."

"Good. Heat the drive up, we are leaving in the countdown of three. Two. One."

For the God Emperor's privates it wasn't a minute to early. Captain Herdess couldn't stand on that forsaken planet any moment more. She was thankful to be alive. Not many of the crew higher echelons had survived the warp exit, killed by the maddened navigators, and fewer had gone through the meatgrinder in the ground. The Imperial Army had broken down for a reason. Navy personnel wasn't supposed to be in the front lines. Of course when it had come to let the zerg eat their collective faces without opposition and shooting the damn bugs up close the choice had been easy.

Her thinned crew had turned out stronger than before. Most of them were kinsmen, clans and families that had lived on the Ollanius for generations, having had a chance to defend it from outsiders had made them bolder. Now they were having fun giving a hard time to Rear Captain Jackson and his men. Of course taking into account that Rear Captain wasn't an actual navy rank she could assume that she was also having fun giving the man a hard time. But she was better than that, she was a navy officer and the captain of the ship. Even if she had only been for that forsaken mission and she had crashed it on the planet, it was her ship now.

An old ship. The Ollanius bridge, one of the most antique explorator bridges in a vessel not serving within the martian priesthood, was brimmed now with "new" technology. The machine spirit had taken it well after all the thing had allowed sanctioned xenotech to be installed in its hull and the recovery of lost technology had been one of its initial purposes. Either way it now boasted a full set of augur arrays operated by terran crew. As the old saying went two eyes saw more than one, and the ship had many.

Those eyes were able to see with accurate clarity what was coming at them. Something that made Captain Herdess swear loudly and wish to leave the surface of the forsaken planet even faster.

Large flying zerg organisms approached them. The terran crew had a name for it. A name that was soon whispered by everyone in the Ollanius. Leviathan.

"Jump into warp space as soon as we are in an acceptable distance from the planet. I don't want the gravity pull to wreck us to pieces before we ever start. Initiate targeting arrays on the dark cannons and defensive arrays if they want to play hard we run and jump faster, understood? Do not engage, we are leaving this warp hole."

The beasts wanted to engage. Sacs containing minor zerg breeds and energy blasts were thrown in the general direction of the Ollanius. Regardless of the captain's expertise and forewarning the Imperial vessel was so vast that trying to run away didn't get it completely out of the line of fire. Defensive arrays formed by digital laser turrets and ballistic weapons started spewing a death field around the ship, stronger than any shield and keeping most monsters at bay.

"Charge the star-flare lance, be ready to fire and charge if anything gets in the way. Full speed ahead, do not extend the gravity seals. I repeat do not extend gravity seals. We are going to cut through anything they put between us and orbit."

Rear Captain Jackson believed that to be a metaphorical phrase. A lone leviathan gave him the chance of seeing how very wrong he was. The lance spat a concentrated sun at the leviathan that started to boil like an insect under a lens concentrating sunlight. The weapon was still burning a hole through it when the ship rammed through it at full speed. He would have cheered if he wasn't taken aback by the Imperial's madness.

"Activate Grav repulsors I don't want my ship getting dirty."

The order was followed by a chorus of laughter and the explosion of the zerg ship that was pulled apart by the strong gravitic pushes coming from the Ollanius hull. Jackson had to admit that at first he hadn't expected the woman to be good, heck he even didn't expect her to be competent. She was too young. But now... he had to wonder from which mad hole they had taken her. She seemed to be able to open a path through four leviathans with murderous glee.

"Good. We are going to initiate a Maxia maneuver. Buckle up."

That got some response from the bridge crew. One gave the captain a baleful look, others simply paled. To their credit they did as ordered while Rear Captain Jackson braced himself wondering what the hell was going on. He did found out pretty soon.

The Ollanius did jump into the warp. For someone who had served aboard a confederate vessel his whole life warp space was alien yet vaguely familiar. For someone who had served aboard an imperial ship the warp they found was alien yet surprisingly welcoming. The warp was calm beyond what they would have believed possible. The hum of the gellar field sounding strangely out of place."

"Now, kill all nonprimal systems and power up the shadowfield. Back into realspace gentlemen."

The jump had been so short that it created a data mismatch. The zerg senses and sensors were picking the position from which they had initiated the jump as it was still disappearing but they had come back into realspace and hid, silencing all their energy emissions except the ones dedicated to obscuring them. Had perhaps the zerg looked for close gaseous compression they might have been able to identify the ruse. They didn't. What they saw was the ship that had cut through one of them making warp jump and disappearing without trace. They followed.

For ten strenuous minutes no one moved on the bridge, unsure of their success. When it was obvious that the xenos had fallen for it a general cheer erupted. Swiftly interrupted by the captain roaring new orders.

"Deploy the gravity sails we are going home gentlemen. Full power into the augurs, if someone is chasing us I want to know before they do. Someone bring the xeno eldar into the bridge, we are going to need his navigating skills."

≡ **][≡**

" _There is a deep tidal current to the left captain. Readjust twelve degrees."_

Captain Herdess wasn't used to take orders from a xeno. But the creature had proven more than capable to guide the ship towards the God – Emperor knows what. It was certain that the warp was becoming more unruly, which was apparently their objective, but wasn't yet as bad as it was on a calm day at the forty first millenium. Even if she didn't like the orders the inquisitor had been clear, and the xenos was capable of speaking into her mind. She wasn't going to oppose someone who was in her mind without good reason and ample time to not think about it.

" _We've got company."_

Just as the thing was finishing it's thoughts one of the auspex picked up a signal. To her pride it was the deep void augur, beating the terran sensors by forty two seconds. The zerg had finally released what was happening and they were coming.

Rear captain Jackson saw the alert flares and looked outside the protective visor panels. He wondered why none of the imperials did so. Before then he hadn't been able to make anything out of the warp space, now he could see the leviathans small in the distance.

"They are moving to fast, we had a head start."

"Well, they have at least a navigator and they are pissed."

"What do we do now?"

"Running keeps being a good option. If they come within medium range assume they have spotted us and provide full power to the engines, otherwise keep silence."

"Can't we fight?"

"Are you mad? We can't fight in the warp. Opening a breach in the hull might kill us or worse."

The zerg had spotted them, the navigator primal had been able to see their trail in the warp as he was able to see many new things now. Somethings he was still not able to understand, or even able to word. He knew that only him was seeing them. His kin were blind to them and the corrupted were too enthralled by their own song to listen to the tune. His eyes were open. His eyes were able to see. And he saw the hated imperial ship.

≡ **][≡**

"They are attacking us!"

If the Imperial had trouble wrapping their minds around the idea of attacking while in warp transit to the point of only gritting their teeth when zerg pods exploded against their shields Jackson couldn't help but to state the obvious.

"I know."

Herdess sounded profoundly pissed. Her knuckles had gone white pressed hard against the armrests of her command chair.

"Shield integrity at 80% and falling."

Herdess looked around herself. As if looking for aid. Her eyes fixated momentarily in the lithe alien form in her bridge.

"We need to get to safety."

"Shield integrity at 40%."

" _This isn't the right time."_

"Look I know this isn't the right time to be attacked. But we are sitting ducks here in warpspace. Nothing we can do. We need to get out of here."

" _You don't understand. This is not the time."_

"Shield integrity at 5%. Overloading emergency shield capacitators."

"Frack it. We are going to realspace and we are going to tear those bastards a new hole."

" _NO!"_

**=][=**

The negative was strong but pointless. It made her head spin. Her mind was numbed with pain for a moment before she realized that her order had been carried through. They were where they had started. Near the orbit of the planet from which they had made warp jump. They didn't know when were they. They didn't even know that the planet below wasn't known anymore as Graia or Mar Sara. In this time it was Mars Ara.

The altar to mars had been a mocking name. The imperium secundus, the five hundred worlds of Ultramar, had found on it a new resource. On its red fields they had tested and designed new weapons from old technology. Wonders that the followers of the dead Emperor couldn't hope to rival.

But they were more than capable of stealing.

"This is operative Myr, Teta squad soliciting immediate extraction."

The vox signal flared into the vowels of the Ollanius, it's security protocols and clearances were unknown even aboard the inquisitorial ship but it had bypassed all the fire walls. Captain Herdess didn't know what to do about it. Her head still rang and she was more concerned with the possibility of a new zerg assault.

"I repeat. Immediate extraction requested upon Efreeti authority."

The code didn't mean much for her but she soon could see the requesting vessel. Operative Myr, if that was it's real name, was flying a stormbird. If that wasn't shock enough, stormbirds hadn't seen much use after the crusade, the auspex revealed that the thing was barely a century old. So either they had put them back into use or they were barely after the crusade. Behind it other vessels somewhere in between the terran battlecruisers and imperial frigates fired it down. The thing exploded silently, pieces and debris flying everywhere.

"What in the warp is going on?"

" _We are not in the right moment. We must go back."_

"We aren't jumping back into the warp, the zerg might be at the other side waiting to maul us to death."

"This is Operative Myr my stormbird has blown up. I'm approaching terminal velocity towards your ship gravity. I would appreciate if you drop your shields before they vaporize me."

From the blasted wreck in front of them a space marine in full power armor was flung across the smoke. It was falling towards the ship.

"Lower the shields. We need to know what the frack is happening."

"Captain our shields were almost destroyed by the zerg, if we drop them it will take a while before we can power them up."

"Do it. Frack it, do it. And send word to the Death Watch we need a welcoming party."

**=][=**

"This is Captain Phyrric of the Bling Boar, speaking in name and with the full authority of Captain Valevoss from the War Pig's chapter fourth company. You are in Ultramar space. For the glory of the Primarch identify yourselves."

"In the God Emperor's name. This must be a misunderstanding. This is the Ollanius' Revenge, we are not enemies, we are under the Imperium's Inquisition's authority."

"If you are Imperial's you are the enemy. Prepare to be boarded."

That got Jackson's attention. He knew the war pig's and they were most definitively not a space marine chapter. At least they weren't.

"What's going on?"

"We are being boarded."

"No shit. I mean what the hell is going on, you didn't know the war pig's you didn't say they were a chapter did you?"

" _This is a wrong timeline."_

"Frack! Get the inquisitor here. Now. Prepare countermeasures!"

**=][=**

"For Guilliman! For the greater glory of the five hundred!"

The mark 16 "Damocles" power armors were pale grayish blue trimmed with bare ceramite and blazoned with the pig head over yellow in their right knee. As they broke through the Ollanius hull in boarding pods the defenders fell back in awe. They were Guilliman's finest.

Four five men squads had broken through before they had been able to raise the shields and establish countermeasures. They had attacked before they had even had the chance to realize what was going on. Before they knew it they were fighting.

**=][=**

"They are attacking the lab."

"No one attacks my blessed manufactorium!"

"Dodge báichī!"

"Blessed Omnissiah are they using coil bolterguns? That must be recovered for Mars!"

"Requesting backup at the laboratory, we are pinned under he... wait, what are you doing! Don't it is unsafe!"

"Blessed Omnissiah I cast mine in the holy hands. Work through me. Give me the power to preach your voice!"

The adept was standing. His red robe was flaring behind him pierced by the bolter rounds fired at high coil velocity only repelled at the last moment by an internal shield embedded under his metallic chest. In front of him five blue armored figures raised their highly evolved bolters towards him. Their weapons were something the techpriest had never seen. Something he hadn't believed to exist within the imperium of man. He was only able to recognize them due to his work on the terran impaler rifles. It was gauss technology. Magnetic coils overspeeding the projectiles. His weapon though wasn't more mundane. It had never fired. It's previous incantation had fired once and blowed up at the same time. Perhaps he was holding a bomb, a bomb that would certainly kill him, but there was no way of knowing till he pressed the trigger.

He did so. The helmet and most of the face below it of the marine at which he had been pointing simply stopped existing. To be more accurate, as befits a red priest of mars, a subatomic blast broke free the atoms and molecules forming it reducing it to a minute invisible cloud of unconnected atoms. For all intents and purposes it stopped existing. The space marine whose face had just been vaporized registered its absence and fell to the ground as a puppet whose strings had been cut at once. As he did the rest of his squad paused.

"Kill them. Take his gun."

The doctor was almost as surprised as he was scared. Four space marines armored and armed with technology they hadn't seen before but that seemed based in a merging of terran and imperial were going to kill them. That was in part surprising. After all they were trying to merge it. Seeing them he could only realize that it was actually possible. The technologies were compatible. What scared him though, was the priests face. It was pale. Pale with fear as it looked at the gun he was holding. The doctor had helped design the weapon and he had been at the first test, he could recognize the signs. The thing was overheating.

"Never say that Mars doesn't share the spoils. Catch!"

As the techpriest threw the gun he ducked for cover. Soon the world turned white when the nuclear core of the yamato gun exploded.

**=][=**

" _There has been an atomic explosion. Our shields aren't going to hold our hull integrity is compromised, they are going to tear us to shreds. This isn't our time, we being here is a paradox, the universe is trying to correct us out of existence. We need to leave. Now!"_

Reluctantly captain Herdess looked at the alien.

"Okay, okay! Make warp jump with shields up and guns blazing, ready to run the zerg might be waiting for us."

The zerg weren't there.

**=][=**

Captain Ran – Aldib stood behind cover wondering when had it all gone to warp. They had spotted Operative Myr whose armor had been blackened by the friction and fire from the explosion but was still recognizable. It was an old mark IV power armor. Myr had also praised the Emperor upon seeing them. The other space marines... they uttered Guilliman's name. And wore what appeared to be finely crafted power armor, using technology that the deathwatch captain had never seen. They were also shooting at them, no questions asked. To make it even more confusing they wore the terran's mercenary insignia.

Ran – Aldib picked Myr and pulled bringing him deeper into the ship and behind his squad which provided cover fire.

"Okay. I need answers. Why are the sons of Guilliman attacking us."

This seemed to shock Myr's composure but he regained his senses rather fast.

"They are a traitorous lot that broke apart from the Imperium. Now it's the legion task to fight them and keep them at bay."

"The legion?"

"The Alpha Legion, of course. What legion are you from legionnaire?"

"The Alpha Legion are traitors! This is heresy!"

"We are not traitors. We did fight against Dorn and his brethren."

"What are you talking about? Dorn did defend Terra."

"Dorn is the archtraitor, what is this? How can't you not know that?"

"We... come from the past. We tried to go back to our time, but somehow we are here now."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I guess the confessor did succeed in warning the Emperor and in doing so has changed history."

"That doesn't make any sense, at all."

"Look, I'm not the time expert..."

Suddenly the all familiar ill sensation of warp jump tightened on their guts. Tiny tendrils of warp energy slithered through the cracks in the hull. The gellar field had been damaged at that section of the ship.

"Fall back! Fall back! We are making a jump we need to get the frack out of here now!"

The deathwatch retreated pulling with them the confused alpha legionnaire, behind them the security doors closed leaving the war pigs to a fate worse than death.

≡ **][≡**

" _Now!"_

The zerg hadn't been there. They hadn't even felt a trace of their presence. It was as if they had banished on the warp or somehow jumped into realmspace before they went back to the warp. The war pigs didn't chase them, and the few that had made it to the Ollanius and were still alive were shacked out like fleas. It was still a travel far from safe. The warp itself was running rampart, violent erupting against the hull with all to malicious intent. When the Eldar had given the order they had willingly followed. Captain Herdess was almost thankful and was in fact going to express gratitude when she realized that the alien had disappeared.

"This is the "Mark of Calth" of the Ultramar's defense fleet. In the name of the God – Emperor identify yourselves."

In the name of the God – Emperor it felt good to be home.

≡ **][≡**


End file.
